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THROUGH  THE 
EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 


A  Unmanrp 


WITH     AN     INTRODUCTION 


BY 
W.     D.     HOWELLS 


HARPER    &    BROTHERS     PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 
1907 


Copyright,  1907,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 

yll!  ri!{hts  reserved. 
Published  April,  1907. 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 


INTRODUCTION 

Akistides  Homos,  an  Emissary  of  the  Altrurian 
Commonwealth,  visited  the  United  States  during  the 
summer  of  1893  and  the  fall  and  winter  following. 
For  some  weeks  or  months  he  was  the  guest  of  a  well- 
known  man  of  letters  at  a  hotel  in  one  of  our  mountain 
resorts;  in  the  early  autumn  he  spent  several  days  at 
the  great  Columbian  Exhibition  in  Chicago;  and  later 
he  came  to  New  York,  where  he  remained  until  he 
sailed,  rather  suddenly,  for  Altruria,  taking  the  circui- 
tous route  by  which  he  came.  He  seems  to  have  written 
pretty  constantly  throughout  his  sojourn  with  us  to  an 
intimate  friend  in  his  own  country,  giving  freely  his 
impressions  of  our  civilization.  His  letters  from  New 
York  appear  to  have  been  especially  full,  and,  in  offer- 
ing the  present  synopsis  of  these  to  the  American 
reader,  it  will  not  be  impertinent  to  note  certain  pecu- 
liarities of  the  Altrurian  attitude  which  the  tempera- 
ment of  the  writer  has  somewhat  modified.  He  is 
entangled  in  his  social  sophistries  regarding  all  the 
competitive  civilizations;  he  cannot  apparently  do  full 
justice  to  the  superior  heroism  of  charity  and  self-sac- 
rifice as  practised  in  countries  where  people  live  upon 
each  other  as  the  Americans  do,  instead  of  for  each] 
other  as  the  Altrurians  do;  but  he  has  some  glimmer-' 
ings  of  the  beauty  of  our  living,  and  he  has  undoubted- 
ly the  wish  to  be  fair  to  our  ideals.  He  is  unable  to 
value  our  devotion  to  the  spirit  of  Christianity  amid 

V 


INTRODUCTION 

the  practices  which  seem  to  deny  it ;  hut  he  evidently 
wishes  to  recognize  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing.  lie 
at  least  accords  iis  the  virtues  of  our  defects,  and,  among 
the  many  visitors  wlio  have  censured  us,  he  has  not  seen 
us  with  his  censures  prepared  to  fit  the  instances;  in 
fact,  the  very  reverse  has  been  his  method. 

Many  of  the  instances  which  he  fits  with  his  censures 
are  such  as  he  could  no  longer  note,  if  he  came  among 
us  again.  That  habit  of  celebrating  the  munificence 
of  the  charitable  rich,  on  which  he  spends  his  sarcasm, 
has  fallen  from  us  through  the  mere  superabundance 
of  occasion.  Our  rich  people  give  so  continuously  for 
all  manner  of  good  objects  that  it  would  be  impossible 
for  our  press,  however  vigilant,  to  note  the  successive 
benefactions,  and  millions  are  now  daily  bestowed  upon 
needy  educational  institutions,  of  which  no  mention 
whatever  is  made  in  the  newspapers.  If  a  millionaire 
is  now  and  then  surprised  in  a  good  action  by  a  re- 
porter of  uncommon  diligence,  he  is  able  by  an  appeal 
to  their  common  humanity  to  prevail  with  the  witness 
to  spare  him  the  revolting  publicity  which  it  must 
be  confessed  would  once  have  followed  his  discovery; 
the  right  hand  which  is  full  to  overflowing  is  now  as 
skilled  as  the  empty  right  hand  in  keeping  the  left  hand 
ignorant  of  its  doings.  This  has  happened  through  the 
general  decay  of  snobbishness  among  us,  perhaps.  It  is 
certain  that  there  is  no  longer  the  passion  for  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  rich  and  the  smart,  which  made  us  ridicu- 
lous to  Mr.  Homos.  Ten  or  twelve  years  ago,  our  news- 
papers abounded  in  intelligence  of  the  coming  and  go- 
ing of  social  leaders,  of  their  dinners  and  lunches  and 
teas,  of  their  receptions  and  balls,  and  the  guests  who 
were  bidden  to  them.  But  this  sort  of  unwholesome 
and  exciting  gossip,  which  was  formerly  devoured  by 
their  readers  with  inappeasable  voracity,  is  no  longer 

vi 


INTKODUCTION 

supplied,  simply  because  the  taste  for  it  has  wholly 
passed  away. 

Much  the  same  might  be  said  of  the  social  hospitali- 
ties which  raised  our  visitor's  surprise.  For  example, 
many  people  are  now  asked  to  dinner  who  really  need 
a  dinner,  and  not  merely  those  who  revolt  from  the  no- 
tion of  dinner  with  loathing,  and  go  to  it  with  abhor- 
rence. At  the  tables  of  our  highest  social  leaders  one 
now  meets  on  a  perfect  equality  persons  of  interesting 
minds  and  uncommon  gifts  who  would  once  have  been 
excluded  because  they  were  hungry,  or  were  not  in  the 
hostess's  set,  or  had  not  a  new  gown  or  a  dress-suit. 
This  contributes  greatly  to  the  pleasure  of  the  time, 
and  promotes  the  increasing  kindliness  between  the 
rich  and  poor  for  which  our  status  is  above  all  things 
notable. 

The  accusation  which  our  critic  brings  that  the 
American  spirit  has  been  almost  Europeanized  away, 
in  its  social  forms,  would  be  less  grounded  in  the  ob- 
servance of  a  later  visitor.  The  customs  of  good  so- 
ciety must  be  the  same  everywhere  in  some  measure, 
but  the  student  of  the  competitive  world  would  now 
find  European  hospitality  Americanized,  rather  than 
American  hospitality  Europeanized.  The  careful  re- 
search which  has  been  made  into  our  social  origins  has 
resulted  in  bringing  back  many  of  the  aboriginal  usages ; 
and,  with  the  return  of  the  old  American  spirit  of  fra- 
ternity, many  of  the  earlier  dishes  as  well  as  amenities 
have  been  restored.  A  Thanksgiving  dinner  in  the 
year  1906  would  have  been  found  more  like  a  Thanks- 
giving dinner  in  1806  than  the  dinner  to  which  Mr. 
Homos  was  asked  in  1893,  and  M-hich  he  has  studied 
so  interestingly,  though  not  quite  without  some  faults 
of  taste  and  discretion.  The  prodigious  change  for  the 
better  in  some  material  aspects  of  our  status  which 

vii 


INTKODUCTION 

has  taken  place  in  the  last  twelve  years  could  no- 
where be  so  well  noted  as  in  the  picture  he  gives  us 
of  the  housing  of  our  people  in  1893.  His  study 
of  the  evolution  of  the  apartment  -  house  from  the 
old  flat  -  house,  and  the  still  older  single  dwelling,  is 
very  curious,  and,  upon  the  whole,  not  incorrect. 
But  neither  of  these  last  differed  so  much  from  the 
first  as  the  apartment  -  house  now  differs  from  the 
apartment -house  of  his  day.  There  are  now  no  dark 
rooms  opening  on  airless  pits  for  the  family,  or  black 
closets  and  dismal  basements  for  the  servants.  Every 
room  has  abundant  light  and  perfect  ventilation,  and 
as  nearly  a  southern  exposure  as  possible.  The  ap- 
pointments of  the  houses  are  no  longer  in  the  spirit 
of  profuse  and  vulgar  luxury  which  it  must  be  allowed 
once  characterized  them.  They  are  simply  but  taste- 
fully finished,  they  are  absolutely  fireproof,  and,  with 
their  less  expensive  decoration,  the  rents  have  been 
so  far  lowered  that  in  any  good  position  a  quarter  of 
nine  or  ten  rooms,  with  as  many  baths,  can  be  had  for 
from  three  thousand  to  fifteen  thousand  dollars.  This 
fact  alone  must  attract  to  our  metropolis  the  best  of 
our  population,  the  bone  and  sinew  which  have  no 
longer  any  use  for  themselves  where  they  have  been 
expended  in  rearing  colossal  fortunes,  and  now  demand 
a  metropolitan  repose. 

The  apartments  are  much  better  fitted  for  a  family 
of  generous  size  than  those  which  Mr.  Homos  observed. 
Children,  who  were  once  almost  unheard  of,  and  quite 
unheard,  in  apartment-houses,  increasingly  abound  un- 
der favor  of  the  gospel  of  race  preservation.  The 
elevators  are  full  of  them,  and  in  the  grassy  courts 
round  which  the  houses  are  built,  the  little  ones  play 
all  day  long,  or  paddle  in  the  fountains,  warmed  with 
steam-pipes  in  the  winter,  and  cooled  to  an  agreeable 

viii 


INTRODUCTION 

temperature  in  a  summer  which  has  almost  lost  its 
terrors  for  the  stay-at-home  ]S[ew- Yorker.  Each  child 
has  his  or  her  little  plot  of  ground  in  the  roof-garden, 
where  they  are  taught  the  once  wellnigh  forgotten  art 
of  agriculture. 

The  improvement  of  the  tenement-house  has  gone 
hand  in  hand  with  that  of  the  apartment-house.  As 
nearly  as  the  rate  of  interest  on  the  landlord's  invest- 
ment will  allow,  the  housing  of  the  poor  approaches  in 
comfort  that  of  the  rich.  Their  children  are  still  more 
numerous,  and  the  playgrounds  supplied  them  in  every 
open  space  and  on  every  pier  are  visited  constantly 
by  the  better-to-do  children,  who  exchange  with  them 
lessons  of  form  and  fashion  for  the  scarcely  less  valu- 
able instruction  in  practical  life  which  the  poorer  lit- 
tle ones  are  able  to  give.  The  rents  in  the  tenement- 
houses  are  reduced  even  more  notably  than  those  in  the 
apartment- houses,  so  that  now,  with  the  constant  in- 
crease in  wages,  the  tenants  are  able  to  pay  their  rents 
promptly.  The  evictions  once  so  common  are  very 
rare;  it  is  doubtful  whether  a  nightly  or  daily  walk 
in  the  poorer  quarters  of  the  town  would  develop,  in 
the  coldest  weather,  half  a  dozen  cases  of  families  set 
out  on  the  sidewalk  with  their  household  goods  about 
them. 

The  Altrurian  Emissary  visited  this  country  when  it 
was  on  the  verge  of  the  period  of  great  economic  de- 
pression extending  from  1894  to  1898,  but,  after  the 
Spanish  War,  Providence  marked  the  divine  approval 
of  our  victory  in  that  contest  by  renewing  in  unex- 
ampled measure  the  prosperity  of  the  Republic.  With 
the  downfall  of  the  trusts,  and  the  release  of  our  indus- 
trial and  commercial  forces  to  unrestricted  activity,  the 
condition  of  every  form  of  labor  has  been  immeasurably 
improved,  and  it  is  now  united  with  capital  in  bonds 

ix 


INTRODUCTION 

of  the  closest  affection.  But  in  no  phase  has  its  fate 
been  so  brightened  as  in  that  of  domestic  service.  This 
has  occurred  not  merely  through  the  rise  of  wages,  but 
through  a  greater  knowledge  between  the  employing 
and  employed.  When,  a  few  years  since,  it  became 
practically  impossible  for  mothers  of  families  to  get 
help  from  the  intelligence  -  offices,  and  ladies  were 
obliged  through  lack  of  cooks  and  chambermaids  to  do 
the  work  of  the  kitchen  and  the  chamber  and  parlor, 
they  learned  to  realize  what  such  work  was,  how  poorly 
paid,  how  badly  lodged,  how  meanly  fed.  From  this 
practical  knowledge  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  re- 
treat to  their  old  supremacy  and  indifference  as  mis- 
tresses. The  servant  problem  was  solved,  once  for  all, 
by  humanity,  and  it  is  doubtful  whether,  if  Mr.  Homos 
returned  to  us  now,  he  would  give  offence  by  preaching 
the  example  of  the  Altrurian  ladies,  or  would  be  shock- 
ed by  the  contempt  and  ignorance  of  American  women 
where  other  women  who  did  their  household  drudgery 
were  concerned. 

As  women  from  having  no  help  have  learned  how 
to  use  their  helpers,  certain  other  hardships  have  been 
the  means  of  good.  The  flattened  wheel  of  the  trolley, 
banging  the  track  day  and  night,  and  tormenting  the 
waking  and  sleeping  ear,  was,  oddly  enough,  the  inspi- 
ration of  reforms  which  have  made  our  city  the  quietest 
in  the  world.  The  trolleys  now  pass  unheard;  the 
elevated  train  glides  by  overhead  with  only  a  modu- 
lated murmur;  the  subway  is  a  retreat  fit  for  medita- 
tion and  prayer,  where  the  passenger  can  possess  his 
soul  in  a  peace  to  be  found  nowhere  else;  the  auto- 
mobile, which  was  unknown  in  the  day  of  the  Altru- 
rian Emissary,  whirs  softly  through  the  most  crowded 
thoroughfare,  far  below  the  speed  limit,  with  a  sigh 
of  gentle  satisfaction   in   its  own  harmlessness,   and, 

X 


INTEODUCTIOH 

"  like  the  sweet  South,  taking  and  giving  odor."  The 
streets  that  he  saw  so  filthy  and  unkempt  in  1893  are 
now  at  least  as  clean  as  they  are  quiet.  Asphalt  has 
universally  replaced  the  cobble  -  stones  and  Belgian 
blocks  of  his  day,  and,  though  it  is  everywhere  full  of 
holes,  it  is  still  asphalt,  and  may  some  time  be  put  in 
repair. 

There  is  a  note  of  exaggeration  in  his  characteriza- 
tion of  our  men  which  the  reader  must  regret.  They  are 
not  now  the  intellectual  inferior  of  our  women,  or  at 
least  not  so  much  the  inferiors.  Since  his  day  they  have 
made  a  vast  advance  in  the  knowledge  and  love  of  lit- 
erature. With  the  multitude  of  our  periodicals,  and  the 
swarm  of  our  fictions  selling  from  a  hundred  thousand 
to  half  a  million  each,  even  our  business-men  cannot 
wholly  escape  culture,  and  they  have  become  more  and 
more  cultured,  so  that  now  you  frequently  hear  them 
asking  what  this  or  that  book  is  all  about.  With  the 
mention  of  them,  the  reader  will  naturally  recur  to  the 
work  of  their  useful  and  devoted  lives — the  accumula- 
tion of  money.  It  is  this  accumulation,  this  heaping- 
up  of  riches,  which  the  Altrurian  Emissary  accuses  in 
the  love-story  closing  his  study  of  our  conditions,  but 
which  he  might  not  now  so  totally  condemn. 

As  we  have  intimated,  he  has  more  than  once  guard- 
ed against  a  rash  conclusion,  to  which  the  logical  habit 
of  the  Altrurian  mind  might  have  betrayed  him.  If 
he  could  revisit  us  we  are  sure  that  he  would  have  still 
greater  reason  to  congratulate  himself  on  his  forbear- 
ance, and  would  doubtless  profit  by  the  lesson  which 
events  must  teach  all  but  the  most  hopeless  doctrinaires. 
The  evil  of  even  a  small  war  (and  soldiers  themselves 
do  not  deny  that  wars,  large  or  small,  are  evil)  has, 
as  we  have  noted,  been  overruled  for  good  in  the  sort 
of  Golden  Age,  or  Age  on  a  Gold  Basis,  which  we  have 

xi 


INTRODUCTION 

long  been  enjoying.  If  our  good-fortune  slionld  be  con- 
tinued to  us  in  reward  of  our  public  and  private  virtue, 
the  fact  would  suggest  to  so  candid  an  observer  that 
in  economics,  as  in  other  things,  the  rule  proves  the 
exception,  and  that  as  good  times  have  hitherto  always 
been  succeeded  by  bad  times,  it  stands  to  reason  that 
our  present  period  of  prosperity  will  never  be  followed 
by  a  period  of  adversity. 

It  would  seem  from  the  story  continued  by  another 
hand  in  the  second  part  of  this  work,  that  Altruria 
itself  is  not  absolutely  logical  in  its  events,  which  arc 
subject  to  some  of  the  anomalies  governing  in  our  own 
affairs.  A  people  living  in  conditions  which  some  of  our 
dreamers  would  consider  ideal,  are  forced  to  discour- 
age foreign  emigration,  against  their  rule  of  universal 
hospitality,  and  in  at  least  one  notable  instance  are 
obliged  to  protect  themselves  against  what  they  believe 
an  evil  example  by  using  compulsion  with  the  wrong- 
doers, though  the  theory  of  their  life  is  entirely  op- 
posed to  anything  of  the  kind.  Perhaps,  however,  we 
are  not  to  trust  to  this  other  hand  at  all  times,  since  it 
is  a  woman's  hand,  and  is  not  to  be  credited  with  the 
firm  and  unerring  touch  of  a  man's.  The  story,  as  she 
completes  it,  is  the  story  of  the  Altrurian's  love  for  an 
American  woman,  and  will  be  primarily  interesting 
for  that  reason.  Like  the  Altrurian's  narrative,  it  is 
here  compiled  from  a  succession  of  letters,  which  in 
her  case  were  written  to  a  friend  in  America,  as  his 
were  written  to  a  friend  in  Altruria.  But  it  can  by 
no  means  have  the  sociological  value  which  the  record 
of  his  observations  among  ourselves  will  have  for  the 
thoughtful  reader.  It  is  at  best  the  record  of  desultory 
and  imperfect  glimpses  of  a  civilization  fundamentally 
alien  to  her  own,  such  as  would  attract  an  enthusiastic 
nature,  but  would  leave  it  finally  in  a  sort  of  misgiving 

xii 


INTKODUCTION 

as  to  the  reality  of  the  things  seen  and  heard.  Some 
such  misgiving  attended  the  inquiries  of  those  who  met 
the  Altrurian  during  his  sojourn  with  us,  but  it  is  a 
pity  that  a  more  absolute  conclusion  should  not  have 
been  the  effect  of  this  lively  lady's  knowledge  of  the 
ideal  country  of  her  adoption.  It  is,  however,  an  in- 
teresting psychological  result,  and  it  continues  the  tra- 
dition of  all  the  observers  of  ideal  conditions  from  Sir 
Thomas  More  down  to  William  Morris.  Either  we 
have  no  terms  for  conditions  so  unlike  our  own  that 
they  cannot  be  reported  to  us  with  absolute  intelligence, 
or  else  there  is  in  every  experience  of  them  an  essential 
vagueness  and  uncertainty. 


PART    FIEST 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 


If  I  spoke  with  Altrurian  breadth  of  the  way  ISTew- 
Yorkers  live,  my  dear  Cyril,  I  should  begin  by  saying 
that  the  l^ew- Yorkers  did  not  live  at  all.  But  outside 
of  our  happy  country  one  learns  to  distinguish,  and  to 
allow  that  there  are  several  degrees  of  living,  all  indeed 
hateful  to  us,  if  we  knew  them,  and  yet  none  without 
some  saving  grace  in  it.  You  would  say  that  in  condi- 
tions where  men  were  embattled  against  one  another  by 
the  greed  and  the  envy  and  the  ambition  which  these 
conditions  perpetually  appeal  to  here,  there  could  be  no 
grace  in  life;  but  we  must  remember  that  men  have 
always  been  better  than  their  conditions,  and  that 
otherwise  they  would  have  remained  savages  without 
the  instinct  or  the  wish  to  advance.  Indeed,  our  own 
state  is  testimony  of  a  potential  civility  in  all  states, 
which  we  must  keep  in  mind  when  we  judge  the  peo- 
ples of  the  plutocratic  world,  and  especially  the  Amer- 
ican people,  who  are  above  all  others  the  devotees  and 
exemplars  of  the  plutocratic  ideal,  without  limitation 
by  any  aristocracy^  theocracy,  or  monarchy.  They 
are  purely  commercial,  and  the  thing  that  cannot  be 
bought  and  sold  has  logically  no  place  in  their  life. 
But  life  is  not  logical  outside  of  Altruria;  we  are  the 
only  people  in  the  world,  my  dear  Cyril,  who  are  priv^ 
ile^ed  to  live  reasonably;   and  again  I  say  we  must 

3 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OE  THE  NEEDLE 

put  by  our  own  critcrions  if  wc  wish  to  understand  the 
Americans,  or  to  recognize  that  measure  of  loveliness 
which  their  warped  and  stunted  and  perverted  lives 
certainly  show,  in  spite  of  theory  and  in  spite  of  con- 
science, even.  I  can  make  this  clear  to  you,  I  think, 
by  a  single  instance,  say  that  of  the  American  who  sees 
a  case  of  distress,  and  longs  to  relieve  it.  If  he  is  rich, 
he  can  give  relief  with  a  good  conscience,  except  for 
the  harm  that  may  come  to  his  beneficiary  from  being 
helped;  but  if  he  is  not  rich,  or  not  finally  rich,  and 
especially  if  he  has  a  family  dependent  upon  him,  he 
cannot  give  in  anything  like  the  measure  Christ  bade 
us  give  without  wronging  those  dear  to  him,  imme- 
diately or  remotely.  That  is  to  say,  in  conditions 
\vhich  oblige  every  man  to  look  out  for  himself,  a  man 
cannot  be  a  Christian  without  remorse;  he  cannot  do 
a  generous  action  without  self-reproach ;  he  cannot  be 
nobly  unselfish  without  the  fear  of  being  a  fool.  You 
would  think  that  this  predicament  must  deprave,  and 
so  without  doubt  it  does;  and  yet  it  is  not  wholly  de- 
praving. It  often  has  its  effect  in  character  of  a  rare 
and  pathetic  sublimity;  and  many  Americans  take  all 
the  cruel  risks  of  doing  good,  reckless  of  the  evil  that 
may  befall  them,  and  defiant  of  the  upbraidings  of 
their  own  hearts.  This  is  something  that  we  Altrurians 
can  scarcely  understand :  it  is  like  the  munificence  of 
a  savage  who  has  killed  a  deer  and  shares  it  with  his 
starving  tribesmen,  forgetful  of  the  hungering  little 
ones  who  wait  his  return  from  the  chase  with  food; 
for  life  in  plutocratic  countries  is  still  a  chase,  and 
the  game  is  wary  and  sparse,  as  the  terrible  average  of 
failures  witnesses. 

Of  course,  I  do  not  mean  that  Americans  may  not 
give  at  all  without  sensible  risk,  or  that  giving  among 
them  is  always  followed  bv  a  logical  regret;  but,  as  I 

4 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

said,  life  with  them  is  in  no  wise  logical.  They  even 
applaud  one  another  for  their  charities,  which  they 
measure  by  the  amount  given,  rather  than  by  the  love 
that  goes  with  the  giving.  The  widow's  mite  has  lit- 
tle credit  with  them,  but  the  rich  man's  million  has 
an  acclaim  that  reverberates  through  their  newspapers 
long  after  his  gift  is  made.  It  is  only  the  poor  in 
America  who  do  charity  as  we  do,  by  giving  help  where 
it  is  needed ;  the  Americans  are  mostly  too  busy,  if 
they  are  at  all  prosperous,  to  give  anything  but  money ; 
and  the  more  money  they  give,  the  more  charitable 
they  esteem  themselves.  From  time  to  time  some  man 
with  twenty  or  thirty  millions  gives  one  of  them  away, 
usually  to  a  public  institution  of  some  sort,  where  it 
will  have  no  effect  with  the  people  who  are  underpaid 
for  their  work  or  cannot  get  work;  and  then  his  deed 
is  famed  throughout  the  continent  as  a  thing  really 
beyond  praise.  Yet  any  one  who  thinks  about  it  must 
know  that  he  never  earned  the  millions  he  kept,  or  the 
millions  he  gave,  but  somehow  made  them  from  the 
labor  of  others ;  that,  with  all  the  wealth  left  him,  he 
cannot  miss  the  fortune  he  lavishes,  any  more  than  if 
the  check  which  conveyed  it  were  a  withered  leaf,  and 
not  in  any  wise  so  much  as  an  ordinary  working-man 
might  feel  the  bestowal  of  a  postage-stamp. 

But  in  this  study  of  the  plutocratic  mind,  always 
so  fascinating  to  me,  I  am  getting  altogether  away  from 
what  I  meant  to  tell  you.  I  meant  to  tell  you  not 
how  Americans  live  in  the  spirit,  illogically,  blindly, 
and  blunderingly,  but  how  they  live  in  the  body,  and 
more  especially  how  they  house  themselves  in  this  city 
of  ]Srew  York.  A  great  in  any  of  them  do  not  house 
themselves  at  all,  but  that  is  a  class  which  we  cannot 
now  consider,  and  I  will  speak  only  of  those  who  have 
some  sort  of  a  roof  over  their  heads. 

5 


II 


FoRMEELY  the  ISTew- Yorker  lived  in  one  of  three 
different  ways:  in  private  houses,  or  boarding-houses, 
or  hotels;  there  were  few  restaurants  or  public  tables 
outside  of  the  hotels,  and  those  who  had  lodgings  and 
took  their  meals  at  eating-houses  were  but  a  small 
proportion  of  the  whole  number.  The  old  classifica- 
tion still  holds  in  a  measure,  but  within  the  last  thirty 
years,  or  ever  since  the  Civil  War,  when  the  enormous 
commercial  expansion  of  the  country  began,  several  dif- 
ferent ways  of  living  have  been  opened.  The  first 
and  most  noticeable  of  these  is  housekeeping  in  flats, 
or  apartments  of  three  or  four  rooms  or  more,  on  the 
same  floor,  as  in  all  the  countries  of  Europe  except 
England;  though  the  flat  is  now  making  itself  known 
in  London,  too.  Before  the  war,  the  ISTew-Yorker  who 
kept  house  did  so  in  a  separate  house,  three  or  four 
stories  in  height,  with  a  street  door  of  its  own.  Its 
pattern  within  was  fixed  by  long  usage,  and  seldom 
varied;  without,  it  was  of  brown -stone  before,  and 
brick  behind,  with  an  open  space  there  for  drying 
clothes,  which  was  sometimes  gardened  or  planted  with 
trees  and  vines.  The  rear  of  the  city  blocks  which 
these  houses  formed  was  more  attractive  than  the  front, 
as  you  may  still  see  in  the  vast  succession  of  monoto- 
nous cross-streets  not  yet  invaded  by  poverty  or  busi- 
ness; and  often  the  perspective  of  these  rears  is  pict- 
uresque and  pleasing.  But  with  the  sudden  growth 
of  the  population  when  peace  came,  and  through  the 

6 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

acquaintance  the  hordes  of  American  tourists  had 
made  Avith  European  fashions  of  living,  it  became  easy, 
or  at  least  simple,  to  divide  the  floors  of  many  of  these 
private  dwellings  into  apartments,  each  with  its  own 
kitchen  and  all  the  apparatus  of  housekeeping.  The 
ajDartments  then  had  the  street  entrance  and  the  stair- 
ways in  common,  and  they  had  in  common  the  cellar 
and  the  furnace  for  heating;  they  had  in  common  the 
disadvantage  of  being  badly  aired  and  badly  lighted. 
They  were  dark,  cramped,  and  uncomfortable,  but 
they  were  cheaper  than  separate  houses,  and  they 
were  more  homelike  than  boarding  -  houses  or  hotels. 
Large  numbers  of  them  still  remain  in  use,  and  when 
people  began  to  live  in  flats,  in  conformity  with  the 
law  of  evolution,  many  buildings  were  put  up  and  sub- 
divided into  apartments  in  imitation  of  the  old  dwell- 
ings which  had  been  changed. 

But  the  apartment  as  the  ISTew- Yorkers  now  mostly 
have  it,  was  at  the  same  time  evolving  from  another 
direction.  The  poorer  class  of  l^ew  York  work-people 
had  for  a  long  period  before  the  war  lived,  as  they  still 
live,  in  vast  edifices,  once  thought  prodigiously  tall, 
which  were  called  tenement-houses.  In  these  a  family 
of  five  or  ten  persons  is  commonly  packed  in  two  or 
three  rooms,  and  even  in  one  room,  where  they  eat 
and  sleep,  without  the  amenities  and  often  without  the 
decencies  of  life,  and  of  course  without  light  and  air. 
The  buildings  in  case  of  fire  are  death-traps;  but  the 
law  obliges  the  owners  to  provide  some  apparent  means 
of  escape,  which  they  do  in  the  form  of  iron  balconies 
and  ladders,  giving  that  festive  air  to  their  facades 
which  I  have  already  noted.  The  bare  and  dirty  en- 
tries and  staircases  are  really  ramifications  of  the  filthy 
streets  without,  and  each  tenement  opens  upon  a  land- 
ing as  if  it  opened  upon  a  public  thoroughfare.     The 

7 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

rents  extorted  from  the  inmates  is  sometimes  a  Imn- 
(Ired  per  cent.,  and  is  nearly  always  cruelly  out  of  pro- 
portion to  the  value  of  the  houses,  not  to  speak  of  the 
"wretched  shelter  afforded ;  and  when  the  rent  is  not 
paid  the  family  in  arrears  is  set  with  all  its  poor  house- 
hold gear  upon  the  sidewalk,  in  a  pitiless  indifference 
to  the  season  and  the  weather,  which  you  could  not 
realize  without  seeing  it,  and  which  is  incredible  even 
of  plutocratic  nature.  Of  course,  landlordism,  which 
you  have  read  so  much  of,  is  at  its  worst  in  the  case  of 
the  tenement-houses.  But  you  must  understand  that 
comparatively  few  people  in  ISTew  York  own  the  roofs 
that  shelter  them.  By  far  the  greater  nimiber  live, 
however  they  live,  in  houses  owned  by  others,  by  a 
class  who  prosper  and  grow  rich,  or  richer,  simply  by 
owning  the  roofs  over  other  men's  heads.  The  land- 
lords have,  of  course,  no  human  relation  with  their  ten- 
ants, and  really  no  business  relations,  for  all  the  affairs 
between  them  are  transacted  by  agents.  Some  have  the 
reputation  of  being  better  than  others;  but  they  all 
live,  or  expect  to  live,  without  work,  on  their  rents.  They 
are  very  much  respected  for  it ;  the  rents  are  considered 
a  just  return  from  the  money  invested.  You  must  try 
to  conceive  of  this  as  an  actual  fact,  and  not  merely  as 
a  statistical  statement.  I  know  it  will  not  be  easy  for 
you ;  it  is  not  easy  for  me,  though  I  have  it  constantly 
before  my  face. 


Ill 


The  tenement-house,  such  as  it  is,  is  the  original  of 
the  apartment  -  house,  which  perpetuates  some  of  its 
most  characteristic  features  on  a  scale  and  in  material 
undreamed  of  in  the  simple  philosophy  of  the  inventor 
of  the  tenement-house.  The  worst  of  these  features  is 
the  want  of  light  and  air,  but  as  much  more  space 
and  as  many  more  rooms  are  conceded  as  the  tenant 
will  pay  for.  The  apartment-house,  however,  soars  to 
heights  that  the  tenement  -  house  never  half  reached, 
and  is  sometimes  ten  stories  high.  It  is  built  fireproof, 
very  often,  and  is  generally  equipped  with  an  elevator, 
which  runs  night  and  day,  and  makes  one  level  of  all 
the  floors.  The  cheaper  sort,  or  those  which  have  de- 
parted less  from  the  tenement-house  original,  have  no 
elevators,  but  the  street  door  in  all  is  kept  shut  and 
locked,  and  is  opened  only  by  the  tenant's  latch-key 
or  by  the  janitor  having  charge  of  the  whole  building. 
In  the  finer  houses  there  is  a  page  whose  sole  duty  it 
is  to  open  and  shut  this  door,  and  who  is  usually  brass- 
buttoned  to  one  blinding  effect  of  livery  with  the  ele- 
vator-boy. Where  this  page  or  hall-boy  is  found,  the 
elevator  carries  you  to  the  door  of  any  apartment  you 
seek;  where  he  is  not  found,  there  is  a  bell  and  a 
speaking-tube  in  the  lower  entry,  for  each  apartment, 
and  you  ring  up  the  occupant  and  talk  to  him  as  many 
stories  off  as  he  happens  to  be.  But  people  who  can 
afford  to  indulge  their  pride  will  not  live  in  this  sort 
of  apartment-house,  and  the  rents  in  them  are  much 

9 


TIIKOUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

lower  than  in  tlie  finer  sort.  The  finer  sort  are  vul- 
garly fine  for  the  most  part,  with  a  gaudy  splendor 
of  mosaic  pavement,  marble  stairs,  frescoed  ceilings, 
painted  walls,  and  cabinet  wood-work.  But  there  are 
many  that  are  fine  in  a  good  taste,  in  the  things  that 
are  common  to  the  inmates.  Their  fittings  for  house- 
keeping are  of  all  degrees  of  perfection,  and,  except 
for  the  want  of  light  and  air,  life  in  them  has  a  high 
degree  of  gross  luxury.  They  are  heated  throughout 
with  pipes  of  steam  or  hot  water,  and  they  are  some- 
times lighted  with  both  gas  and  electricity,  which  the 
inmate  uses  at  will,  though  of  course  at  his  own  cost. 
Outside,  they  are  the  despair  of  architecture,  for  no 
style  has  yet  been  invented  which  enables  the  artist  to 
characterize  them  with  beauty,  and  wherever  they  lift 
their  vast  bulks  they  deform  the  whole  neighborhood, 
throwing  the  other  buildings  out  of  scale,  and  making 
it  impossible  for  future  edifices  to  assimilate  themselves 
to  the  intruder. 

There  is  no  end  to  the  apartment-houses  for  multi- 
tude, and  there  is  no  street  or  avenue  free  from  them. 
Of  course,  the  better  sort  are  to  be  found  on  the  fash- 
ionable avenues  and  the  finer  cross-streets,  but  others- 
follow  the  course  of  the  horse-car  lines  on  the  eastern 
and  western  avenues,  and  the  elevated  roads  on  the 
avenues  which  these  have  invaded.  In  such  places 
they  are  shops  below  and  apartments  above,  and  I 
cannot  see  that  the  inmates  seem  at  all  sensible  that 
they  are  unfitly  housed  in  them.  People  are  born  and 
married,  and  live  and  die  in  the  midst  of  an  uproar  so 
frantic  that  you  would  think  they  would  go  mad  of  it ; 
and  I  believe  the  physicians  really  attribute  something 
of  the  growing  prevalence  of  neurotic  disorders  to  the 
wear  and  tear  of  the  nerves  from  the  rush  of  the  trains 
passing  almost  momently,   and  the  perpetual  jarring 

10 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

of  the  earth  and  air  from  their  swift  transit.  I  once 
spent  an  evening  in  one  of  these  apartments,  which 
a  friend  had  taken  for  a  few  weeks  last  spring  (you 
can  get  them  out  of  season  for  any  length  of  time), 
and  as  the  weather  had  begun  to  be  warm,  we  had  the 
windows  open,  and  so  we  had  the  full  effect  of  the  rail- 
road operated  under  them.  My  friend  had  become 
accustomed  to  it,  but  for  me  it  was  an  affliction  which 
I  cannot  give  you  any  notion  of.  The  trains  seemed 
to  be  in  the  room  ^vith  us,  and  I  sat  as  if  I  had  a  loco- 
motive in  my  lap.  Their  shrieks  and  groans  burst 
every  sentence  I  began,  and  if  I  had  not  been  master 
of  that  visible  speech  which  we  use  so  much  at  home 
I  never  should  have  known  what  my  friend  was  saying. 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  this  brutal  clamor  insulted  me, 
and  made  the  mere  exchange  of  thought  a  part  of  the 
squalid  struggle  which  is  the  plutocratic  conception 
of  life ;  I  came  away  after  a  few  hours  of  it,  bewildered 
and  bruised,  as  if  I  had  been  beaten  upon  with  ham- 
mers. 

Some  of  the  apartments  on  the  elevated  lines  are 
very  good,  as  such  things  go;  they  are  certainly  costly 
enough  to  be  good;  and  they  are  inhabited  by  people 
who  can  afford  to  leave  them  during  the  hot  season 
when  the  noise  is  at  its  worst;  but  most  of  them  be- 
long to  people  who  must  dwell  in  them  summer  and 
winter,  for  want  of  money  and  leisure  to  get  out  of 
them,  and  who  must  suffer  incessantly  from  the  noise 
I  could  not  endure  for  a  few  hours.  In  health  it  is 
bad  enough,  but  in  sickness  it  must  be  horrible  beyond 
all  parallel.  Imagine  a  mother  with  a  dying  child  in 
such  a  place;  or  a  wife  bending  over  the  pillow  of  her 
husband  to  catch  the  last  faint  whisper  of  farewell,  as 
a  train  of  five  or  six  cars  goes  roaring  by  the  open 
window!     What  horror!  what  profanation! 

11 


IV 


Tke  noise  is  bad  everywhere  in  ISTew  York,  but  in 
some  of  the  finer  apartment-houses  on  the  better  streets 
you  are  as  well  out  of  it  as  you  can  be  anywhere  in 
the  city.  I  have  been  a  guest  in  these  at  different 
times,  and  in  one  of  them  I  am  such  a  frequent  guest 
that  I  may  be  said  to  know  its  life  intimately.  In  fact, 
my  hostess  (women  transact  society  so  exclusively  in 
America  that  you  seldom  think  of  your  host)  in  the 
apartment  I  mean  to  speak  of,  invited  me  to  explore 
it  one  night  when  I  dined  with  her,  so  that  I  might, 
as  she  said,  tell  my  friends  when  I  got  back  to  Altruria 
how  people  lived  in  America ;  and  I  cannot  feel  that  I 
am  violating  her  hospitality  in  telling  you  now.  She 
is  that  Mrs.  Makely  whom  I  met  last  summer  in  the 
mountains,  and  whom  you  thought  so  strange  a  type 
from  the  account  of  her  I  gave  you,  but  who  is  not 
altogether  uncommon  here.  I  confess  that,  with  all  her 
faults,  I  like  her,  and  I  like  to  go  to  her  house.  She 
is,  in  fact,  a  very  good  woman,  perfectly  selfish  by  tra- 
dition, as  the  American  women  must  be,  and  wildly 
generous  by  nature,  as  they  nearly  always  are ;  and  in- 
finitely superior  to  her  husband  in  cultivation,  as  is 
commonly  the  case  with  them.  As  he  knows  nothing 
but  business,  he  thinks  it  is  the  only  thing  worth 
knowing,  and  he  looks  down  on  the  tastes  and  interests 
of  her  more  intellectual  life  with  amiable  contempt, 
as  something  almost  comic.  She  respects  business,  too, 
and  so  she  does  not  despise  his  ignorance  as  you  would 

12 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

suppose;  it  is  at  least  the  ignorance  of  a  business-man, 
who  must  have  something  in  him  beyond  her  ken,  or 
else  he  would  not  be  able  to  make  money  as  he  does. 

With  your  greater  sense  of  humor,  I  think  you  would 
be  amused  if  you  could  see  his  smile  of  placid  self- 
satisfaction  as  he  listens  to  our  discussion  of  questions 
and  problems  which  no  more  enter  his  daily  life  than 
they  enter  the  daily  life  of  an  Eskimo;  but  I  do  not 
find  it  altogether  amusing  myself,  and  I  could  not  well 
forgive  it,  if  I  did  not  know  that  he  was  at  heart  so 
simple  and  good,  in  spite  of  his  commerciality.  But 
he  is  sweet  and  kind,  as  the  American  men  so  often 
are,  and  he  thinks  his  wife  is  the  delightfulest  creature 
in  the  world,  as  the  American  husband  nearly  always 
does.  They  have  several  times  asked  me  to  dine  with 
them  en  famille;  and,  as  a  matter  of  form,  he  keeps 
me  a  little  while  with  him  after  dinner,  when  she  has 
left  the  table,  and  smokes  his  cigar,  after  wondering 
why  we  do  not  smoke  in  Altruria;  but  I  can  see  that 
he  is  impatient  to  get  to  her  in  their  drawing  -  room, 
where  we  find  her  reading  a  book  in  the  crimson  light 
of  the  canopied  lamp,  and  where  he  presently  falls 
silent,  perfectly  happy  to  be  near  her.  The  drawing- 
room  is  of  a  good  size  itself,  and  it  has  a  room  opening 
out  of  it  called  the  library,  with  a  case  of  books  in  it, 
and  Mrs.  Makely's  piano-forte.  The  place  is  rather  too 
richly  and  densely  rugged,  and  there  is  rather  more 
curtaining  and  shading  of  the  windows  than  we  should 
like ;  but  Mrs.  Makely  is  too  well  up-to-date,  as  she 
would  say,  to  have  much  of  the  bric-a-brac  about  which 
she  tells  me  used  to  clutter  people's  houses  here.  There 
are  some  pretty  good  pictures  on  the  walls,  and  a  few 
vases  and  bronzes,  and  she  says  she  has  produced  a 
greater  effect  of  space  by  quelling  the  furniture — she 
means,  having  few  pieces  and  having  them  as  small  as 

13 


THEOFGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  XEEDLE 

possible.  There  is  a  little  stand  with  her  afternoon 
tea-set  in  one  comer,  and  there  is  a  pretty  \vriting- 
desk  in  the  library ;  I  remember  a  sofa  and  some  easy- 
chairs,  but  not  too  many  of  them.  She  has  a  table  near 
one  of  the  windows,  with  books  and  papers  on  it.  She 
tells  me  that  she  sees  herself  that  the  place  is  kept  just 
as  she  wishes  it,  for  she  has  rather  a  passion  for  neat- 
ness, and  you  never  can  trust  servants  not  to  stand  the 
books  on  their  heads  or  study  a  vulgar  symmetry  in 
the  arrangements.  She  never  allows  them  in  there,  she 
says,  except  when  they  are  at  work  under  her  eye ;  and 
she  never  allows  anybody  there  except  her  guests,  and 
her  husband  after  he  has  smoked.  Of  course,  her  dog 
must  be  there :  and  one  evening  after  her  husband  fell 
asleep  in  the  arm<-hair  near  her,  the  dog  fell  asleep  on 
the  fleece  at  her  feet,  and  we  heard  them  softly  breath- 
ing in  unison. 

She  made  a  pretty  little  mocking  mouth  when  the 
sound  first  became  audible,  and  said  that  she  ought 
really  to  have  sent  Mr.  Makely  out  with  the  dog,  for 
the  dog  ought  to  have  the  air  every  day,  and  she  had 
been  kept  indoors;  but  sometimes  Mr.  Makely  came 
home  from  business  so  tired  that  she  hated  to  send  him 
out,  even  for  the  dog's  sake,  though  he  was  so  apt  to 
become  dyspeptic.  ^'  They  won't  let  you  have  dogs  in 
s<:>me  of  the  apartment-houses,  btit  I  tore  up  the  first 
lease  that  had  that  clause  in  it,  and  I  told  Mr.  ]^^akely 
that  I  would  rather  live  in  a  house  all  my  days  than 
any  flat  where  my  dog  wasn't  as  welcome  as  I  was.  Of 
course,  they're  rather  troublesome." 

The  Makelys  had  no  children,  but  it  is  seldom  that 
the  occupants  of  apartment-houses  of  a  good  class  have 
children,  though  there  is  no  clause  in  the  lease  against 
them.  I  verified  this  fact  from  Mrs.  Makelv  herself, 
by  actual  inquirv.  for  in  all  the  times  that  I  had  gone 

14 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

up  and  down  in  the  elevator  to  her  apartment  I  had 
never  seen  any  children.  She  seemed  at  first  to  think 
I  was  joking,  and  not  to  like  it,  but  when  she  found 
that  I  was  in  earnest  she  said  that  she  did  not  suppose 
all  the  families  living  under  that  roof  had  more  than 
four  or  five  children  among  them.  She  said  that  it 
would  be  inconvenient;  and  I  could  not  allege  the 
tenement-houses  in  the  poor  quarters  of  the  city,  where 
children  seemed  to  swarm,  for  it  is  but  too  probable 
that  they  do  not  regard  convenience  in  such  places,  and 
that  neither  parents  nor  children  are  more  comfortable 
for  their  presence. 


Comfort  is  the  American  ideal,  in  a  certain  way, 
and  comfort  is  certainly  what  is  studied  in  such  an 
apartment  as  the  Makelys  inhabit.  We  got  to  talking 
about  it,  and  the  ease  of  life  in  such  conditions,  and 
it  was  then  she  made  me  that  offer  to  show  me  her 
flat,  and  let  me  report  to  the  Altrurians  concerning  it. 
She  is  all  impulse,  and  she  asked,  How  would  I  like  to 
see  it  now'i  and  when  I  said  I  should  be  delighted, 
she  spoke  to  her  husband,  and  told  him  that  she  was 
going  to  show  me  through  the  flat.  He  roused  himself 
promptly,  and  went  before  us,  at  her  bidding,  to  turn 
up  the  electrics  in  the  passages  and  rooms,  and  then 
she  led  the  way  out  through  the  dining-room. 

"  This  and  the  parlors  count  three,  and  the  kitchen 
here  is  the  fourth  room  of  the  eight,"  she  said,  and  as 
she  spoke  she  pushed  open  the  door  of  a  small  room, 
blazing  with  light  and  dense  with  the  fumes  of  the 
dinner  and  the  dish-washing  which  was  now  going  on 
in  a  closet  opening  out  of  the  kitchen. 

She  showed  me  the  set  range,  at  one  side,  and  the 
refrigerator  in  an  alcove,  which  she  said  went  with  the 
flat,  and,  "Lena,"  she  said  to  the  cook,  "this  is  the 
Altrurian  gentleman  I  was  telling  you  about,  and  I 
want  him  to  see  your  kitchen.  Can  I  take  him  into 
your  room  ?" 

The  cook  said,  "  Oh  yes,  ma'am,"  and  she  gave  me 
a  good  stare,  while  Mrs.  Makely  went  to  the  kitchen 
window  and  made  me  observe  that  it  let  in  the  out- 

16 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

side  air,  tliongli  tlie  court  that  it  opened  into  was  so 
dark  that  one  had  to  keep  the  electrics  going  in  the 
kitchen  night  and  day.  "  Of  course,  it's  an  expense," 
she  said,  as  she  closed  the  kitchen  door  after  ns.  She 
added,  in  a  low,  rapid  tone,  "  You  must  excuse  my 
introducing  the  cook.  She  has  read  all  about  you  in 
the  papers  —  you  didn't  know,  I  suppose,  that  there 
were  reporters  that  day  of  your  delightful  talk  in  the 
mountains,  but  I  had  them — and  she  was  wild,  when 
she  heard  you  were  coming,  and  made  me  promise  to 
let  her  have  a  sight  of  you  somehow.  She  says  she 
wants  to  go  and  live  in  Altruria,  and  if  you  would  like 
to  take  home  a  cook,  or  a  servant  of  any  kind,  you 
wouldn't  have  much  trouble.  !N"ow  here,"  she  ran  on, 
without  a  moment's  pause,  while  she  flung  open  an- 
other door,  "  is  what  you  won't  find  in  every  apart- 
ment-house, even  very  good  ones,  and  that's  a  back 
elevator.  Sometimes  there  are  only  stairs,  and  they 
make  the  poor  things  climb  the  whole  way  up  from  the 
basement,  when  they  come  in,  and  all  your  marketing 
has  to  be  brought  up  that  way,  too;  sometimes  they 
send  it  up  on  a  kind  of  dumb  -  waiter,  in  the  cheap 
places,  and  you  give  your  orders  to  the  market-men 
down  below  through  a  speaking-tube.  But  here  we  have 
none  of  that  bother,  and  this  elevator  is  for  the  kitchen 
and  housekeeping  part  of  the  flat.  The  grocer's  and 
the  butcher's  man,  and  anybody  who  has  packages  for 
you,  or  trunks,  or  that  sort  of  thing,  use  it,  and,  of 
course,  it's  for  the  servants,  and  they  appreciate  not 
having  to  walk  up  as  much  as  anybody." 

"Oh  yes,"  I  said,  and  she  shut  the  elevator  door 
and  opened  another  a  little  beyond  it. 

"  This  is  our  guest  chamber,"  she  continued,  as  she 
ushered  me  into  a  very  pretty  room,  charmingly  fur- 
nished.    "  It  isn't  very  light  by  day,  for  it  opens  on  a 

^17 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OP  THE  NEEDLE 

court,  like  the  kitchen  and  the  servants'  room  here," 
and  with  that  she  whipped  out  of  the  guest  chamber 
and  into  another  doorway  across  the  corridor.  This 
room  was  very  much  narrower,  but  there  were  two 
small  beds  in  it,  very  neat  and  clean,  with  some  fur- 
nishings that  were  in  keeping,  and  a  good  carpet  un- 
der foot.  Mrs.  Makely  was  clearly  proud  of  it,  and 
expected  me  to  applaud  it;  but  I  waited  for  her  to 
speak,  which  upon  the  whole  she  probably  liked  as  well. 

"  I  only  keep  two  servants,  because  in  a  flat  there 
isn't  really  room  for  more,  and  I  put  out  the  wash  and 
get  in  cleaning-women  when  it's  needed.  I  like  to  use 
my  servants  well,  because  it  pays,  and  I  hate  to  see 
anybody  imposed  upon.  Some  people  put  in  a  double- 
decker,  as  they  call  it — a  bedstead  with  two  tiers,  like 
the  berths  on  a  ship;  but  I  think  that's  a  shame,  and 
I  give  them  two  regular  beds,  even  if  it  does  crowd 
them  a  little  more  and  the  beds  have  to  be  rather 
narrow.  This  room  has  outside  air,  from  the  court, 
and,  though  it's  always  dark,  it's  very  pleasant,  as  you 
see."  I  did  not  say  that  I  did  not  see,  and  this  suf- 
ficed Mrs.  Makely. 

"  ISTow,"  she  said,  "  I'll  show  you  our  rooms,"  and 
she  flew  down  the  corridor  towards  two  doors  that  stood 
open  side  by  side  and  flashed  into  them  before  me. 
Her  husband  was  already  in  the  first  she  entered, 
smiling  in  supreme  content  with  his  wife,  his  belong- 
ings, and  himself. 

"  This  is  a  southern  exposure,  and  it  has  a  perfect 
gush  of  sun  from  morning  till  night.  Some  of  the 
flats  have  the  kitchen  at  the  end,  and  that's  stupid; 
you  can  have  a  kitchen  in  any  sort  of  hole,  for  you 
can  keep  on  the  electrics,  and  with  them  the  air  is  per- 
fectly good.  As  soon  as  I  saw  these  chambers,  and 
found  out  that  they  would  let  you  keep  a  dog,  I  told 

18 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

Mr.  Makely  to  sign  the  lease  instantly,  and  I  would 
see  to  the  rest." 

She  looked  at  me,  and  I  praised  the  room  and  its 
dainty  tastefulness  to  her  heart's  content,  so  that  she 
said :  "  Well,  it's  some  satisfaction  to  show  you  any- 
thing, Mr.  Homos,  you  are  so  appreciative.  I'm  sure 
you'll  give  a  good  account  of  us  to  the  Altrurians. 
Well,  now  we'll  go  back  to  the  pa — drawing-room. 
This  is  the  end  of  the  story." 

"  Well,"  said  her  husband,  with  a  wink  at  me,  "  I 
thought  it  was  to  be  continued  in  our  next,"  and  he 
nodded  towards  the  door  that  opened  from  his  wife's 
bower  into  the  room  adjoining. 

''  Why,  you  poor  old  fellow !"  she  shouted.  "  I  for- 
got all  about  your  room,"  and  she  dashed  into  it  before 
us  and  began  to  show  it  off.  It  was  equipped  with 
every  bachelor  luxury,  and  with  every  appliance  for 
health  and  comfort.  "  And  here,"  she  said,  "  he  can 
smoke,  or  anything,  as  long  as  he  keeps  the  door  shut. 
Oh,  good  gracious!  I  forgot  the  bath-room,"  and 
they  both  united  in  showing  me  this,  with  its  tiled 
floor  and  walls  and  its  porcelain  tub;  and  then  Mrs. 
Makely  flew  up  the  corridor  before  us.  "  Put  out  the 
electrics,  Dick!"  she  called  back  over  her  shoulder. 


VT 


When  we  were  again  seated  in  the  drawing-room, 
which  she  had  been  so  near  calling  a  parlor,  she  con- 
tinued to  bubble  over  with  delight  in  herself  and  her 
apartment.  "  ISTow,  isn't  it  about  perfect  ?"  she  urged, 
and  I  had  to  own  that  it  was  indeed  very  convenient 
and  very  charming;  and  in  the  rapture  of  the  moment 
she  invited  me  to  criticise  it. 

"  I  see  very  little  to  criticise,"  I  said,  "  from  your 
point  of  view ;  but  I  hope  you  won't  think  it  indiscreet 
if  I  ask  a  few  questions  ?'* 

She  laughed.  "  Ask  anything,  Mr.  Homos !  I  hope 
I  got  hardened  to  your  questions  in  the  mountains." 

"  She  said  you  used  to  get  off  some  pretty  tough 
ones,"  said  her  husband,  helpless  to  take  his  eyes 
from  her,  although  he  spoke  to  me. 

"  It  is  about  your  servants,"  I  began. 

"  Oh,  of  course !     Perfectly  characteristic !     Go  on." 

"  You  told  me  that  they  had  no  natural  light  either 
in  the  kitchen  or  their  bedroom.  Do  they  never  see 
the  light  of  day  ?" 

The  lady  laughed  heartily.  "  The  waitress  is  in  the 
front  of  the  house  several  hours  every  morning  at  her 
work,  and  they  both  have  an  afternoon  off  once  a  week. 
Some  people  only  let  them  go  once  a  fortnight;  but  I 
think  they  are  human  beings  as  well  as  we  are,  and  I 
let  them  go  every  week." 

"  But,  except  for  that  afternoon  once  a  week,  your 
cook  lives  in  electric-light  perpetually  ?" 

20 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

"  Electric-light  is  very  healthy,  and  it  doesn't  heat 
the  air !"  the  lady  triumphed.  "  I  can  assure  you  that 
she  thinks  she's  very  well  off;  and  so  she  is."  I  felt 
a  little  temper  in  her  voice,  and  I  was  silent,  until  she 
asked  me,  rather  stiffly,  "  Is  there  any  otlier  inquiry 
you  would  like  to  make  ?" 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  but  I  do  not  think  you  would 
like  it." 

"  ]^ow,  I  assure  you,  Mr,  Homos,  you  were  never 
more  mistaken  in  your  life.  I  perfectly  delight  in 
your  naivete.  I  know  that  the  Altrurians  don't  think 
as  we  do  about  some  things,  and  I  don't  expect  it. 
What  is  it  you  would  like  to  ask  ?" 

"  Well,  why  should  you  require  your  servants  to  go 
down  on  a  different  elevator  from  yourselves  ?" 

"  Wliy,  good  gracious  !"  cried  the  lady  • —  "  aren't 
they  different  from  us  in  every  way?  To  be  sure,  they 
dress  up  in  their  ridiculous  best  when  they  go  out, 
but  you  couldn't  expect  us  to  let  them  use  the  front 
elevator?  I  don't  want  to  go  up  and  down  with  my 
own  cook,  and  I  certainly  don't  with  my  neighbor's 
cook!" 

"Yes,  I  suppose  you  would  feel  that  an  infringe- 
ment of  your  social  dignity.  But  if  you  found  yourself 
beside  a  cook  in  a  horse-car  or  other  public  conveyance, 
you  would  not  feel  personally  affronted  ?" 

"  ISTo,  that  is  a  very  different  thing.  That  is  some- 
thing we  cannot  control.  But,  thank  goodness,  we  can 
control  our  elevator,  and  if  I  were  in  a  house  where  I 
had  to  ride  up  and  down  with  the  servants  I  would  no 
more  stay  in  it  than  I  would  in  one  where  I  couldn't 
keep  a  dog.  I  should  consider  it  a  perfect  outrage.  I 
cannot  understand  you,  Mr.  Homos!  You  are  a  gen- 
tleman, and  you  must  have  the  traditions  of  a  gentle- 
man, and  yet  you  ask  me  such  a  thing  as  that!" 

21 


THROUGH   THE   EYE    OF   THE   NEEDLE 

I  saw  a  cast  in  her  husband's  eve  which  I  took  for 
a  hint  not  to  press  the  matter,  and  so  I  thought  I  had 
better  say,  "  It  is  onlv  that  in  Altruria  we  hold  serving 
in  peculiar  honor." 

"  Well,"  said  the  lady,  scornfully,  "  if  you  went  and 
got  your  servants  from  an  intelligence-office,  and  had 
to  look  up  their  references,  you  wouldn't  hold  them  in 
very  much  honor.  I  tell  you  they  look  out  for  their 
interests  as  sharply  as  we  do  for  ours,  and  it's  nothing 
between  us  but  a  question  of — " 

"  Business,"  suggested  her  husband. 

"  Yes,"  she  assented,  as  if  this  clinched  the  matter. 

'*  That's  what  I'm  always  telling  you,  Dolly,  and 
yet  you  will  try  to  make  them  your  friends,  as  soon  as 
you  get  them  into  your  house.  You  want  them  to  love 
you,  and  you  know  that  sentiment  hasn't  got  anything 
to  do  with  it." 

"Well,  I  can't  help  it,  Dick.  I  can't  live  with  a 
person  without  trying  to  like  them  and  wanting  them 
to  like  me.  And  then,  when  the  ungrateful  things  are 
saucy,  or  leave  me  in  the  lurch  as  they  do  half  the 
time,  it  almost  breaks  my  heart.  But  I'm  thankful  to 
say  that  in  these  hard  times  they  won't  be  apt  to  leave 
a  good  place  without  a  good  reason." 

"  Are  there  many  seeking  employment  ?"  I  asked 
this  because  I  thought  it  was  safe  ground. 

"  Well,  they  just  stand  around  in  the  office  as 
tliich!"  said  the  lady.  "And  the  Americans  are  try- 
ing to  get  places  as  well  as  the  foreigners.  But  I  won't 
have  Americans.  They  are  too  uppish,  and  they  are 
never  half  so  well  trained  as  the  Swedes  or  the  Irish. 
They  still  expect  to  be  treated  as  one  of  the  family.  I 
suppose,"  she  continued,  with  a  lingering  ire  in  Her 
voice,  "  that  in  Altruria  you  do  treat  them  as  one  of  the 
family  ?" 

22 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OE  THE  NEEDLE 

"  We  have  no  servants,  in  the  American  sense,"  I 
answered,  as  inoffensively  as  I  could. 

Mrs.  Makely  irrelevantly  returned  to  the  question 
that  had  first  provoked  her  indignation.  "  And  I 
should  like  to  know  how  much  worse  it  is  to  have  a 
back  elevator  for  the  servants  than  it  is  to  have  the 
basement  door  for  the  servants,  as  you  always  do  when 
you  live  in  a  separate  house?" 

"  I  should  think  it  was  no  worse,"  I  admitted,  and 
I  thought  this  a  good  chance  to  turn  the  talk  from  the 
dangerous  channel  it  had  taken.  "  I  wish,  !Mrs.  ^lake- 
ly,  you  would  tell  me  something  about  the  way  people 
live  in  separate  houses  in  ISTew  York." 

She  was  instantly  pacified.  "  Why,  I  should  be 
delighted.  I  only  wish  my  friend  Mrs.  Bellington 
Strange  was  back  from  Europe ;  then  I  could  show  you 
a  model  house.  I  mean  to  take  you  there,  as  soon  as 
she  gets  home.  She's  a  kind  of  Altrurian  herself,  you 
know.  She  was  my  dearest  friend  at  school,  and  it 
almost  broke  my  heart  when  she  married  Mr.  Strange, 
so  much  older,  and  her  inferior  in  every  way.  But 
she's  got  his  money  now,  and  oh,  the  good  she  does  do 
with  it!  I  know  you'll  like  each  other,  Mr.  Homos. 
I  do  wish  Eva  was  at  home!" 

I  said  that  I  should  be  very  glad  to  meet  an  Amer- 
ican Altrurian,  but  that  now  I  wished  she  would  tell 
me  about  the  normal  Xew  York  house,  and  what  was 
its  animating  principle,  beginning  with  the  basement 
door. 

She  laughed  and  said,  "  Why,  it's  just  like  any  other 
house !" 


VII 


I  CAN  never  insist  enough,  my  dear  Cyril,  upon  the 
illogicality  of  American  life.  You  know  what  the  plu- 
tocratic principle  is,  and  what  the  plutocratic  civiliza- 
tion should  logically  be.  But  the  plutocratic  civiliza- 
tion is  much  better  than  it  should  logically  be,  bad  as 
it  is;  for  the  personal  equation  constantly  modifies  it, 
and  renders  it  far  less  dreadful  than  you  would  rea- 
sonably expect.  That  is,  the  potentialities  of  goodness 
implanted  in  the  human  heart  by  the  Creator  forbid 
the  plutocratic  man  to  be  what  the  plutocratic  scheme 
of  life  implies.  He  is  often  merciful,  kindly,  and  gen- 
erous, as  I  have  told  you  already,  in  spite  of  condi- 
tions absolutely  egoistical.  You  would  think  that  the 
Americans  would  be  abashed  in  view  of  the  fact  that 
their  morality  is  often  in  contravention  of  their  eco- 
nomic principles,  but  apparently  they  arc  not  so,  and 
I  believe  that  for  the  most  part  they  are  not  aware  of 
the  fact,  l^evertheless,  the  fact  is  there,  and  you  must 
keep  it  in  mind,  if  you  would  conceive  of  them  rightly. 
You  can  in  no  other  way  account  for  the  contradic- 
tions which  you  will  find  in  my  experiences  among 
them;  and  these  are  often  so  bewildering  that  I  have 
to  take  myself  in  hand,  from  time  to  time,  and  ask 
myself  what  mad  world  I  have  fallen  into,  and  whether, 
after  all,  it  is  not  a  ridiculous  nightmare.  I  am  not 
sure  that,  when  I  return  and  we  talk  these  things  over 
together,  I  shall  be  able  to  overcome  your  doubts  of 
my  honesty,  and  I  think  that  when  I  no  longer  have 

24 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OE  THE  NEEDLE 

them  before  my  eyes  I  shall  begin  to  doubt  my  own 
memory.  But  for  the  present  I  can  only  set  down 
what  I  at  least  seem  to  sec,  and  trust  you  to  accejjt 
it,  if  you  cannot  understand  it. 

Perhaps  I  can  aid  you  by  suggesting  that,  logically, 
the  Americans  should  be  what  the  Altrurians  are,  since 
their  polity  embodies  our  belief  that  all  men  are  born 
equal,  with  the  right  to  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit 
of  happiness;  but  that  illogically  they  arc  what  the 
Europeans  are,  since  they  still  cling  to  the  economical 
ideals  of  Europe,  and  hold  tliat  men  are  born  socially 
unequal,  and  deny  them  the  liberty  and  happiness  which 
can  come  from  equality  alone.  It  is  in  their  public 
life  and  civic  life  that  Altruria  prevails;  it  is  in  their 
social  and  domestic  life  that  Europe  prevails ;  and  here, 
I  think,  is  the  severest  penalty  they  must  pay  for  ex- 
cluding women  from  political  affairs;  for  women  arc 
at  once  the  best  and  the  worst  Americans:  the  best 
because  their  hearts  are  the  purest,  the  worst  because 
their  heads  are  the  idlest.  "  Another  contradiction !" 
you  will  say,  and  I  cannot  deny  it;  for,  with  all  their 
cultivation,  the  American  women  have  no  real  intel- 
lectual interests,  but  only  intellectual  fads ;  and  while 
they  certainly  think  a  great  deal,  they  reflect  little,  or 
not  at  all.  The  inventions  and  improvements  which 
have  made  their  household  work  easy,  the  wealth  that 
has  released  them  in  such  vast  numbers  from  work 
altogether,  has  not  enlarged  them  to  the  sphere  of  du- 
ties which  our  Altrurian  women  share  with  us,  but  has 
left  them,  with  their  quickened  intelligences,  the  prey 
of  the  trivialities  which  engross  the  European  women, 
and  which  have  formed  the  life  of  the  sex  hitherto  in 
every  country  wdiere  women  have  an  economical  and 
social  freedom  ^\^thout  the  political  freedom  that  can 
alone  give  it  dignity  and  import.     They  have  a  great 

25 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

deal  of  beauty,  and  they  are  inconsequently  charming; 
I  need  not  tell  you  that  they  are  romantic  and  heroic, 
or  that  they  would  go  to  the  stake  for  a  principle,  if 
they  could  find  one,  as  willingly  as  any  martyr  of  the 
past;  but  they  have  not  much  more  perspective  than 
children,  and  their  reading  and  their  talk  about  read- 
ing seem  not  to  have  broadened  their  mental  horizons 
beyond  the  old  sunrise  and  the  old  sunset  of  the  kitchen 
and  the  parlor. 

In  fine,  the  American  house  as  it  is,  the  American 
household,  is  what  the  American  woman  makes  it 
and  wills  it  to  be,  whether  she  wishes  it  to  be  so  or 
.  not ;  for  I  often  find  that  the  American  woman  wills 
If  things  that  she  in  no  wise  wishes.  What  the  normal 
'New  York  house  is,  however,  I  had  great  difficulty  in 
getting  Mrs.  Makely  to  tell  me,  for,  as  she  said  quite 
frankly,  she  could  not  imagine  my  not  knowing.  She 
asked  me  if  I  really  wanted  her  to  begin  at  the  begin- 
ning, and,  when  I  said  that  I  did,  she  took  a  little  more 
time  to  laugh  at  the  idea,  and  then  she  said,  "  I  sup- 
pose you  mean  a  brown-stone,  four-story  house  in  the 
middle  of  a  block  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  tliink  that  is  what  I  mean,"  I  said. 

"  Well,"  she  began,  "  those  high  steps  that  they  all 
have,  unless  they're  English-basement  houses,  really 
give  them  another  story,  for  people  used  to  dine  in 
the  front  room  of  their  basements.  You've  noticed  the 
little  front  yard,  about  as  big  as  a  handkerchief,  gen- 
erally, and  the  steps  leading  down  to  the  iron  gate, 
which  is  kept  locked,  and  the  basement  door  inside  the 
gate?  Well,  that's  what  you  might  call  the  back  ele- 
vator of  a  house,  for  it  serves  the  same  purpose:  the 
supplies  are  brought  in  there,  and  market-men  go  in 
and  out,  and  the  ashes,  and  the  swill,  and  the  servants 
— that  you  object  to  so  much.     We  have  no  alleys  in 

26 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OE  THE  NEEDLE 

'New  York,  the  blocks  are  so  narrow,  north  and  south; 
and,  of  course,  we  have  no  back  doors;  so  we  have  to 
put  the  garbage  out  on  the  sidewalk  —  and  it's  nasty 
enough,  goodness  knows.  Underneath  the  sidewalk 
there  are  bins  where  people  keep  their  coal  and  kin- 
dling. You've  noticed  the  gratings  in  the  pave- 
ments ?" 

I  said  yes,  and  I  was  ashamed  to  own  that  at  first 
I  had  thought  them  some  sort  of  registers  for  temper- 
ing the  cold  in  winter;  this  would  have  appeared 
ridiculous  in  the  last  degree  to  my  hostess,  for  the 
Americans  have  as  yet  no  conception  of  publicly  modi- 
fying the  climate,  as  we  do. 

"  Back  of  what  used  to  be  the  dining  -  room,  and 
what  is  now  used  for  a  laundry,  generally,  is  the 
kitchen,  with  closets  between,  of  course,  and  then  the 
back  yard,  which  some  people  make  very  pleasant  with 
shrubs  and  vines ;  the  kitchen  is  usually  dark  and  close, 
and  the  girls  can  only  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air  in  the 
yard ;  I  like  to  see  them ;  but  generally  it's  taken  upAvith 
clothes-lines,  for  people  in  houses  nearly  all  have  their 
washing  done  at  home.  Over  the  kitchen  is  the  dining- 
room,  which  takes  up  the  whole  of  the  first  floor,  with 
the  pantry,  and  it  almost  always  has  a  bay-window  out 
of  it;  of  course,  that  overhangs  the  kitchen,  and  dark- 
ens it  a  little  more,  but  it  makes  the  dining-room  so 
pleasant.  I  tell  my  husband  that  I  should  be  almost 
willing  to  live  in  a  house  again,  just  on  account  of  the 
dining-room  bay-window.  I  had  it  full  of  flowers  in 
pots,  for  the  southern  sun  came  in ;  and  then  the  yard 
was  so  nice  for  the  dog;  you  didn't  have  to  take  him 
out  for  exercise,  yourself;  he  chased  the  cats  there 
and  got  plenty  of  it.  I  must  say  that  the  cats  on  the 
back  fences  were  a  drawback  at  night;  to  be  sure,  we 
have  them  here,  too;  it's  seven  stories  down,  but  you 

27 


THROUGH   THE  EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

do  liear  them,  uloiig  in  the  spring.  The  parlor,  or 
drawing-room,  is  usually  rather  long,  and  runs  from 
the  dining-room  to  the  front  of  the  house,  though 
where  the  house  is  very  deep  they  have  a  sort  of 
middle  room,  or  back  parlor.  Dick,  get  some  paper 
and  draw  it.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  see  a  plan  of  the 
floor?" 

I  said  that  I  should,  and  she  bade  her  husband  make 
it  like  their  old  house  in  West  Thirty  -  third  Street. 
We  all  looked  at  it  together. 

"  This  is  the  front  door,"  Mrs.  Makely  explained, 
"  where  people  come  in,  and  then  begins  the  misery 
of  a  house — stairs!  They  mostly  go  up  straight,  but 
sometimes  they  have  them  curve  a  little,  and  in  the 
new  houses  the  architects  have  all  sorts  of  little  dodges 
for  squaring  them  and  putting  landings.  Then,  on  the 
second  floor — draw  it,  Dick — you  have  two  nice,  large 
chambers,  with  plenty  of  light  and  air,  before  and  be- 
hind. I  do  miss  the  light  and  air  in  a  flat,  there's  no 
denying  it." 

"  You'll  go  back  to  a  house  yet,  Dolly,"  said  her 
husband. 

"  jSTever !"  she  almost  shrieked,  and  he  winked  at 
me,  as  if  it  were  tlie  best  joke  in  the  world.  "  j^ever, 
as  long  as  houses  have  stairs !" 

"  Put  in  an  elevator,"  he  suggested. 

"  Well,  that  is  what  Eveleth  Strange  has,  and  she 
lets  the  servants  use  it,  too,"  and  Mrs.  Makely  said, 
with  a  look  at  me:  "  I  suppose  that  would  please  you, 
Mr.  Homos.  Well,  there's  a  nice  side-room  over  the 
front  door  here,  and  a  bath-room  at  the  rear.  Then 
you  have  more  stairs,  and  large  chambers,  and  two  side- 
rooms.  That  makes  plenty  of  chambers  for  a  small 
family.  I  used  to  give  two  of  the  third-story  rooms 
to  my  two  girls,     I  ought  really  to  have  made  them 

28 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OE  THE  NEEDLE 

sleep  in  one;  it  seemed  sucli  a  shame  to  let  the  cook 
have  a  whole  large  room  to  herself;  but  I  had  nothing 
else  to  do  with  it,  and  she  did  take  such  comfort  in  it, 
poor  old  thing !  You  see,  the  rooms  came  wrong  in  our 
house,  for  it  fronted  north,  and  I  had  to  give  the  girls 
sunny  rooms  or  else  give  them  front  rooms,  so  that 
it  was  as  broad  as  it  was  long.  I  declare,  I  was  per- 
plexed about  it  the  whole  time  we  lived  there,  it  seemed 
so  perfectly  anomalous." 

"  And  what  is  an  English-basement  house  like  ?"  I 
ventured  to  ask,  in  interruption  of  the  retrospective 
melancholy  she  had  fallen  into. 

"  Oh,  never  live  in  an  English-basement  house,  if 
you  value  your  spine !"  cried  the  lady.  "  An  English- 
basement  house  is  nothing  hut  stairs.  In  the  first 
place,  it's  only  one  room  wide,  and  it's  a  story  higher 
than  the  high-stoop  house.  It's  one  room  forward  and 
one  back,  the  whole  way  up;  and  in  an  English-base- 
ment it's  always  up,  and  never  down.  If  I  had  my 
way,  there  wouldn't  one  stone  be  left  upon  another  in 
the  English-basements  in  ISew  York." 

I  have  suffered  Mrs.  Makely  to  be  nearly  as  explicit 
to  you  as  she  was  to  me;  for  the  kind  of  house  she 
described  is  of  the  form  ordinarily  prevailing  in  all 
American  cities,  and  you  can  form  some  idea  from  it 
how  city  people  live  here.  I  ought  perhaps  to  tell  you 
that  such  a  house  is  fitted  with  every  housekeeping 
convenience,  and  that  there  is  hot  and  cold  water 
throughout,  and  gas  every^vhere.  It  has  fireplaces  in 
all  the  rooms,  where  fires  are  often  kept  burning  for 
pleasure ;  but  it  is  really  heated  from  a  furnace  in  the 
basement,  through  large  pipes  carried  to  the  different 
stories,  and  opening  into  them  by  some  such  registers 
as  we  use.  The  separate  houses  sometimes  have  steam- 
heating,  but  not  often.     They  each  have  their  drainage 

29 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

into  the  sewer  of  the  street,  and  this  is  trapped  and 
trapped  again,  as  in  the  houses  of  our  old  plutocratic 
cities,  to  keep  the  poison  of  the  sewer  from  getting  into 
the  houses. 


VIII 

You  will  be  curious  to  know  something  concerning 
the  cost  of  living  in  such  a  house,  and  you  may  be  sure 
that  I  did  not  fail  to  question  Mrs.  Makely  on  this 
point.  She  was  at  once  very  volubly  communicative; 
she  told  me  all  she  knew,  and,  as  her  husband  said,  a 
great  deal  more. 

"  Why,  of  course,"  she  began,  "  you  can  spend  all 
you  have  in  ISTew  York,  if  you  like,  and  people  do 
spend  fortunes  every  year.  But  I  suppose  you  mean 
the  average  cost  of  living  in  a  brown-stone  house,  in  a 
good  block,  that  rents  for  $1800  or  $2000  a  year,  with 
a  family  of  three  or  four  children,  and  two  servants. 
Well,  what  should  you  say,  Dick  V 

"  Ten  or  twelve  thousand  a  year — fifteen,"  answered 
her  husband. 

"  Yes,  fully  that,"  she  answered,  with  an  effect  of 
disappointment  in  his  figures.  "  We  had  just  our- 
selves, and  we  never  spent  less  than  seven,  and  we 
didn't  dress,  and  we  didn't  entertain,  either,  to  speak 
of.  But  you  have  to  live  on  a  certain  scale,  and  gener- 
ally you  live  up  to  your  income." 

"  Quite,"  said  Mr.  Makely. 

"  I  don't  know  what  makes  it  cost  so.  Provisions 
are  cheap  enough,  and  they  say  people  live  in  as  good 
style  for  a  third  less  in  London.  There  used  to  be  a 
superstition  that  you  could  live  for  less  in  a  flat,  and 
they  always  talk  to  you  about  the  cost  of  a  furnace, 
and  a  man  to  tend  it  and  keep  the  snow  shovelled  off 
3  31 


THKOUGII  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

your  sidewalk,  but  that  is  all  stuff.  Five  hundred 
dollars  will  make  up  the  whole  ditfereuce,  and  more. 
You  pay  quite  as  much  rent  for  a  decent  flat,  and  then 
you  don't  get  half  the  room.  No,  if  it  wasn't  for  the 
stairs,  I  wouldn't  live  in  a  flat  for  an  instant.  But  that 
makes  all  the  difference." 

"  And  the  young  people,"  I  urged — "  those  who  are 
just  starting  in  life — how  do  they  manage  ?  Say  when 
the  husband  has  $1500  or  $2000  a  year?" 

"  Poor  things !"  she  returned.  "  I  don't  know  how 
they  manage.  They  board  till  they  go  distracted,  or 
they  dry  up  and  blow  away;  or  else  the  wife  has  a 
little  money,  too,  and  they  take  a  small  flat  and  ruin 
themselves.  Of  course,  they  want  to  live  nicely  and 
like  other  people." 

"  But  if  they  didn't  ?" 

"  Why,  then  they  could  live  delightfully.  My  hus- 
band says  he  often  wishes  he  was  a  master-mechanic 
in  'New  York,  with  a  thousand  a  year,  and  a  flat  for 
twelve  dollars  a  month;  he  would  have  the  best  time 
in  the  world." 

Her  husband  nodded  his  acquiescence.  "  Fighting- 
cock  wouldn't  be  in  it,"  he  said.  "  Trouble  is,  we  all 
want  to  do  the  swell  thing." 

"  But  you  can't  all  do  it,"  I  ventured,  "  and,  from 
what  I  see  of  the  simple,  out-of-the-way  neighborhoods 
in  my  walks,  you  don't  all  try." 

"  Why,  no,"  he  said.  "  Some  of  us  were  talking 
about  that  the  other  night  at  the  club,  and  one  of  the 
fellows  was  saying  that  he  believed  there  was  as  much 
old-fashioned,  quiet,  almost  countrified  life  in  New 
York,  among  the  great  mass  of  the  people,  as  you'd 
find  in  any  city  in  the  world.  Said  you  met  old  cod- 
gers that  took  care  of  their  own  furnaces,  just  as  you 
would  in  a  town  of  five  thousand  inhabitants." 

32 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OE  THE  NEEDLE 

"  Yes,  that's  all  very  well,"  said  his  wife ;  "  but 
they  wouldn't  be  nice  people.  ISTice  people  want  to 
live  nicely.  And  so  they  live  beyond  their  means  or 
else  they  scrimp  and  suffer.  I  don't  know  which  is 
worst." 

"  But  there  is  no  obligation  to  do  either  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh  yes,  there  is,"  she  returned.  "  If  you've  been 
born  in  a  certain  way,  and  brought  up  in  a  certain  way, 
you  can't  get  out  of  it.  You  simply  can't.  You  have 
got  to  keep  in  it  till  you  drop.     Or  a  woman  has." 

"  That  means  the  woman's  husband,  too,"  said  Mr. 
Makely,  with  his  wink  for  me.    "  Always  die  together." 

In  fact,  there  is  the  same  competition  in  the  social 
world  as  in  the  business  world;  and  it  is  the  ambition 
of  every  American  to  live  in  some  such  house  as  the 
Kew  York  house;  and  as  soon  as  a  village  begins  to 
grow  into  a  town,  such  houses  are  built.  Still,  the 
immensely  greater  number  of  the  Americans  necessari- 
ly live  so  simply  and  cheaply  that  such  a  house  would 
be  almost  as  strange  to  them  as  to  an  Altrurian.  But 
while  we  should  regard  its  furnishings  as  vulgar  and 
unwholesome,  most  Americans  would  admire  and  covet 
its  rich  rugs  or  carpets,  its  papered  walls,  and  thickly 
curtained  windows,  and  all  its  foolish  ornamentation, 
and  most  American  women  would  long  to  have  a  house 
like  the  ordinary  high-stoop  Xew  York  house,  that  they 
might  break  their  backs  over  its  stairs,  and  become  in- 
valids, and  have  servants  about  them  to  harass  them 
and  hate  thorn. 

Of  course,  I  put  it  too  strongly,  for  there  is  often, 
illogically,  a  great  deal  of  love  between  the  American 
women  and  their  domestics,  though  why  there  should 
be  any  at  all  I  cannot  explain,  except  by  reference  to 
that  mysterious  personal  equation  which  modifies  all 
conditions  here.  You  will  have  mnrlo  vour  reflection  that 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

the  servants,  as  they  are  cruelly  called  (I  have  heard 
them  called  so  in  their  hearing,  and  wondered  they  did 
not  fly  tooth  and  nail  at  the  throat  that  nttered  the 
insult),  form  really  no  part  of  the  house,  but  are  aliens 
in  the  household  and  the  family  life.  In  spite  of  this 
fact,  much  kindness  grows  up  between  them  and  the 
family,  and  they  do  not  always  slight  the  work  that 
I  cannot  understand  their  ever  having  any  heart  in. 
Often  they  do  slight  it,  and  they  insist  unsparingly 
upon  the  scanty  privileges  which  their  mistresses  seem 
to  think  a  monstrous  invasion  of  their  own  rights.  The 
habit  of  oppression  grows  upon  the  oppressor,  and  you 
would  find  tender-hearted  women  here,  gentle  friends, 
devoted  wives,  loving  mothers,  who  would  be  willing 
that  their  domestics  should  remain  indoors,  week  in 
and  week  out,  and,  where  they  are  confined  in  the  ridic- 
ulous American  flat,  never  see  the  light  of  day.  In 
fact,  though  the  Americans  do  not  know  it,  and  would 
be  shocked  to  be  told  it,  their  servants  are  really  slaves, 
who  are  none  the  less  slaves  because  they  cannot  be 
beaten,  or  bought  and  sold  except  by  the  week  or  month, 
and  for  the  price  which  they  fix  themselves,  and  them- 
selves receive  in  the  form  of  wages.  They  are  social 
outlaws,  so  far  as  the  society  of  the  family  they  serve 
is  concerned,  and  they  are  restricted  in  the  visits  they 
receive  and  pay  among  themselves.  They  are  given 
the  worst  rooms  in  the  house,  and  they  are  fed  with  the 
food  that  they  have  prepared,  only  when  it  comes  cold 
from  the  family  table;  in  the  wealthier  houses,  where 
many  of  them  are  kept,  they  are  supplied  with  a 
coarser  and  cheaper  victual  bought  and  cooked  for 
them  apart  from  that  provided  for  the  family.  They 
are  subject,  at  all  hours,  to  the  pleasure  or  caprice  of 
the  master  or  mistress.  Every  circumstance  of  their 
life  is  an  affront  to  that  just  self-respect  which  even 

34 


THROUGH  THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

Americans  allow  is  the  right  of  every  human  being. 
With  the  rich,  they  are  said  to  be  sometimes  indolent, 
dishonest,  mendacious,  and  all  that  Plato  long  ago 
explained  that  slaves  must  be;  but  in  the  middle-class 
families  they  are  mostly  faithful,  diligent,  and  reli- 
able in  a  degree  that  would  put  to  shame  most  men 
who  hold  positions  of  trust,  and  would  leave  many 
ladies  whom  they  relieve  of  work  without  ground  for 
comparison. 


IX 


After  Mrs.  Makcly  had  told  me  about  the  'New 
York  house,  we  began  to  talk  of  the  domestic  service, 
and  I  ventured  to  hint  some  of  the  things  that  I  have 
so  plainly  said  to  you.  She  frankly  consented  to  my 
whole  view  of  the  matter,  for  if  she  wishes  to  make  an 
effect  or  gain  a  point  she  has  a  magnanimity  that  stops 
at  nothing  short  of  self-devotion.  "  I  know  it,"  she 
said.  "  You  are  perfectly  right ;  but  here  we  are,  and 
what  are  we  to  do?  What  do  you  do  in  Altruria,  I 
should  like  to  know?" 

I  said  that  in  Altruria  we  all  worked,  and  that  per- 
sonal service  was  honored  among  us  like  medical  at- 
tendance in  America ;  I  did  not  know  what  other  com- 
parison to  make ;  but  I  said  that  any  one  in  health 
would  think  it  as  unwholesome  and  as  immoral  to  let 
another  serve  him  as  to  let  a  doctor  physic  him.  At 
this  Mrs.  Makely  and  her  husband  laughed  so  that  I 
found  myself  unable  to  go  on  for  some  moments,  till 
Mrs.  Makely,  with  a  final  shriek,  shouted  to  him: 
"  Dick,  do  stop,  or  I  shall  die !  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Ho- 
mos, but  you  are  so  deliciously  funny,  and  I  know 
you're  just  joking.  You  wont  mind  my  laughing? 
Do  go  on." 

I  tried  to  give  her  some  notion  as  to  how  we  man- 
age, in  our  common  life,  which  we  have  simplified  so 
much  beyond  anything  that  this  barbarous  people 
dream  of;  and  she  grew  a  little  soberer  as  I  went  on, 
and  seemed  at  least  to  believe  that  I  was  not,  as  her 

36 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

husband  said,  stuffing  tliem;  l)ut  she  ended,  as  they 
always  do  here,  by  saying  that  it  might  be  all  very 
well  in  Altruria,  but  it  would  never  do  in  America, 
and  that  it  was  contrary  to  human  nature  to  have  so 
many  things  done  in  common.  "  ^STow,  I'll  tell  you," 
she  said.  "  After  we  In'oke  up  housekeeping  in  Thirty- 
third  Street,  we  stored  our  furniture — " 
"  Excuse  me,"  I  said.  "  How — stored  ?" 
"  Oh,  I  dnre  say  you  never  store  your  furniture  in 
Altruria.  But  liere  we  have  hundreds  of  storage  ware- 
houses of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  packed  with  furniture  that 
people  put  into  tliem  when  they  go  to  Europe,  or  get  sick 
to  death  of  servants  and  the  whole  bother  of  house- 
keeping; and  that's  what  we  did;  and  then,  as  my. 
husband  says,  we  browsed  about  for  a  year  or  two. 
First,  we  tried  hotelling  it,  and  we  took  a  hotel  apart- 
ment furnished,  and  dined  at  the  hotel  table,  until  I 
certainly  thought  I  should  go  off,  I  got  so  tired  of  it. 
Then  we  hired  a  suite  in  one  of  the  family  hotels  that 
there  are  so  many  of,  and  got  out  enough  of  our  things 
to  furnish  it,  and  had  our  meals  in  our  rooms;  they 
let  you  do  that  for  the  same  price,  often  they  are  rjlad 
to  have  you,  for  the  dining-room  is  so  packed.  But 
everything  got  to  tasting  just  the  same  as  everything 
else,  and  my  husband  had  the  dyspepsia  so  bad  he 
couldn't  half  attend  to  business,  and  I  suffered  from 
indigestion  myself,  cooped  up  in  a  few  small  rooms, 
that  way ;  and  the  dog  almost  died ;  and  finally  we  gave 
that  up,  and  took  an  apartment,  and  got  out  our  things 
— the  storage  cost  as  much  as  the  rent  of  a  small  house 
— and  put  them  into  it,  and  had  a  caterer  send  in  the 
meals  as  they  do  in  Europe.  But  it  isn't  the  same  here 
as  it  is  in  Europe,  and  we  got  so  sick  of  it  in  a  month 
that  I  thought  I  should  scream  when  I  saw  the  same 
old  dishes  comins:  on  the  table,  dav  after  day.     We 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

had  to  keep  one  servant  —  excuse  me,  Mr.  Homos : 
domestic  —  anyway,  to  look  after  the  table  and  the 
parlor  and  chamber  work,  and  my  husband  said  we 
might  as  well  be  hung  for  a  sheep  as  a  lamb,  and  so 
we  got  in  a  cook ;  and,  bad  as  it  is,  it's  twenty  million 
times  better  than  anything  else  you  can  do.  Servants 
are  a  plague,  but  you  have  got  to  have  them,  and  so 
I  have  resigned  myself  to  the  will  of  Providence.  If 
they  don't  like  it,  neither  do  I,  and  so  I  fancy  it's 
about  as  broad  as  it's  long."  I  have  found  this  is  a 
;  favorite  phrase  of  Mrs.  Makely's,  and  that  it  seems  to 
[give  her  a  great  deal  of  comfort. 

"  And  you  don't  feel  that  there's  any  harm  in  it  ?" 
I  ventured  to  ask. 

"  Harm  in  it  ?"  she  repeated.  "  Why,  aren't  the 
poor  things  glad  to  get  the  work?  What  would  they 
do  without  it  ?" 

"  From  what  I  see  of  your  conditions  I  should  be 
afraid  that  they  would  starve,"  I  said. 

"  Yes,  they  can't  all  get  places  in  shops  or  restau- 
rants, and  they  have  to  do  something,  or  starve,  as  you 
say,"  she  said ;  and  she  seemed  to  think  what  I  had  said 
was  a  concession  to  her  position. 

"  But  if  it  were  your  own  case  ?"  I  suggested.  "  If 
you  had  no  alternatives  but  starvation  and  domestic 
service,  you  would  think  there  was  harm  in  it,  even 
although  you  were  glad  to  take  a  servant's  place  ?" 

I  saw  her  flush,  and  she  answered,  haughtily,  "  You 
must  excuse  me  if  I  refuse  to  imagine  myself  taking  a 
servant's  place,  even  for  the  sake  of  argument." 

"  And  you  are  quite  right,"  I  said.  "  Your  Amer- 
ican instinct  is  too  strong  to  brook  even  in  imagination 
the  indignities  which  seem  daily,  hourly,  and  momently 
inflicted  upon  servants  in  your  system." 

To  my  great  astonishment  she  seemed  delighted  by 

38 


TKROUGH  THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

this    conclusion.      "  Yes,"    she   said,    and    she   smiled 
radiantly,   "  and  now  you  understand  how  it  is  that 
American  girls  won't  go  out  to  service,  though  the  pay 
is  so  much  hetter  and  they  are  so  much  better  housed 
and  fed — and  everything.    Besides,"  she  added,  with  an 
irrelevance  which  always  amuses  her  husband,  though:' 
I  should  be  alarmed  by  it  for  her  sanity  if  I  did  not  I 
find  it  so  characteristic  of  women  here,  who  seem  to\ 
be  mentally  characterized  by  the   illogicality  of   the 
civilization,  "  they're  not  half  so  good  as  the  foreign 
servants.     They've  been  brought  up  in  homes  of  their 
own,   and  they're  uppish,   and  they  have  no  idea  of 
anything  but  third  -  rate  boarding  -  house  cooking,  and 
they're  always  hoping  to  get  married,  so  that,  really, 
you  have  no  peace  of  your  life  with  them." 

"  And  it  never  seems  to  you  that  the  whole  relation 
is  wrong  ?"  I  asked. 

"  What  relation  ?" 

"  That  between  maid  and  mistress,  the  hirer  and  the 
hireling." 

"  Why,  good  gracious !"  she  burst  out.  "  Didn't 
Christ  himself  say  that  the  laborer  was  worthy  of  his 
hire  ?  And  how  would  you  get  your  work  done,  if 
you  didn't  pay  for  it  ?" 

"  It  might  be  done  for  you,  when  you  could  not  do 
it  yourself,  from  affection." 

"  From  affection !"  she  returned,  with  the  deepest 
derision.  "  Well,  I  rather  think  I  sliaU  have  to  do  it 
myself  if  I  want  it  done  from  affection !  But  I  sup- 
pose you  think  I  ought  to  do  it  myself,  as  the  Altru- 
rian  ladies  do !  I  can  tell  you  that  in  America  it 
would  be  impossible  for  a  lady  to  do  her  own  work, 
and  there  are  no  intelligence-offices  where  you  can  find 
girls  that  want  to  work  for  love.  It's  as  broad  as  it's 
long." 

39 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

"  It's  simply  business,"  her  husband  said. 

They  were  right,  my  dear  friend,  and  I  was  wrong, 
strange  as  it  must  appear  to  you.  The  tie  of  service, 
which  we  think  as  sacred  as  the  tie  of  blood,  can  be 
here  only  a  business  relation,  and  in  these  conditions 
service  must  forever  be  grudgingly  given  and  grudg- 
ingly paid.  There  is  something  in  it,  I  do  not  quite 
know  what,  for  I  can  never  place  myself  precisely  in 
an  American's  place,  that  degi'ades  the  poor  creatures 
who  serve,  so  that  they  must  not  only  be  social  out- 
casts, but  must  leave  such  a  taint  of  dishonor  on  their 
work  that  one  cannot  even  do  it  for  one's  self  without 
a  sense  of  outraged  dignity.  You  might  account  for 
this  in  Europe,  where  ages  of  prescriptive  wrong  have 
distorted  the  relation  out  of  all  human  wholesomeness 
and  Christian  loveliness ;  but  in  America,  where  many, 
and  perhaps  most,  of  those  who  keep  servants  and  call 
them  so  are  but  a  single  generation  from  fathers  who 
earned  their  bread  by  the  sweat  of  their  brows,  and  from 
mothers  who  nobly  served  in  all  household  offices,  it 
is  in  the  last  degree  bewildering.  I  can  only  account 
for  it  by  that  bedevilment  of  the  entire  American  ideal 
through  the  retention  of  the  English  economy  when 
the  English  polity  was  rejected.  But  at  the  heart  of 
America  there  is  this  ridiculous  contradiction,  and  it 
must  remain  there  until  the  whole  country  is  Altru- 
rianized.  There  is  no  other  hope;  but  I  did  not  now 
urge  this  point,  and  we  turned  to  talk  of  other  things, 
related  to  the  matters  we  had  been  discussing. 

"  The  men,"  said  Mrs.  Makely,  "  get  out  of  the 
whole  bother  very  nicely,  as  long  as  they  are  single, 
and  even  when  they're  married  they  are  apt  to  run  off 
to  the  club  when  there's  a  prolonged  upheaval  in  the 
kitchen." 

"  /  don't,  Dolly,"  suggested  her  husband. 

40 


TIIEOUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

"  1^0,  you  don't,  Dick,"  she  returned,  fondly.  "  But 
there  are  not  many  like  you." 

He  went  on,  with  a  wink  at  me,  "  I  never  live  at 
the  club,  except  in  summer,  when  you  go  away  to  the 
mountains." 

"  Well,  you  know  I  can't  very  well  take  you  with 
me,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  leave  my  business,  anyway,"  he  said, 
and  he  laughed. 


I  HAD  noticed  the  vast  and  splendid  club-houses  in 
the  best  places  in  the  city,  and  I  had  often  wondered 
about  their  life,  which  seemed  to  me  a  blind  groping 
towards  our  own,  though  only  upon  terms  that  forbade 
it  to  those  who  most  needed  it.  The  clubs  here  are 
not  like  our  groups,  the  free  association  of  sympa- 
thetic people,  though  one  is  a  little  more  literary,  or 
commercial,  or  scientific,  or  political  than  another; 
but  the  entrance  to  each  is  more  or  less  jealously 
guarded;  there  is  an  initiation-fee,  and  there  are  an- 
nual dues,  which  are  usually  heavy  enough  to  exclude 
all  but  the  professional  and  business  classes,  though 
there  are,  of  course,  successful  artists  and  authors  in 
them.  During  the  past  ^\anter  I  visited  some  of  the 
most  characteristic,  where  I  dined  and  supped  with 
the  members,  or  came  alone  when  one  of  these  put  me 
down,  for  a  fortnight  or  a  month. 

They  are  equipped  with  kitchens  and  cellars,  and 
their  wines  and  dishes  are  of  the  best.  Each  is,  in 
fact,  like  a  luxurious  private  house  on  a  large  scale; 
outwardly  they  are  palaces,  and  inwardly  they  have 
every  feature  and  function  of  a  princely  residence  com- 
plete, even  to  a  certain  number  of  guest  -  chambers, 
where  members  may  pass  the  night,  or  stay  indefinitely 
in  some  cases,  and  actually  live  at  the  club.  The  club, 
however,  is  known  only  to  the  cities  and  larger  toAvns, 
in  this  liighly  developed  form ;  to  the  ordinary,  simple 
American  of  the  country,  or  of  the  country  to^ATi  of  five 

42 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

or  ten  thousand  people,  a  New  York  club  would  be  as 
strange  as  it  would  be  to  any  Altrurian. 

"  Do  many  of  the  husbands  left  behind  in  the  sum- 
mer live  at  the  club  ?"  I  asked. 

"  All  that  have  a  club  do,"  he  said.  "  Often  there's 
a  very  good  table  d'hote  dinner  that  you  couldn't 
begin  to  get  for  the  same  price  anywhere  else;  and 
there  are  a  lot  of  good  fellows  there,  and  you  can  come 
pretty  near  forgetting  that  you're  homeless,  or  even 
that  you're  married." 

He  laughed,  and  his  wife  said :  "  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed,  Dick;  and  me  worrying  about  you  all  the 
time  I'm  away,  and  wondering  what  the  cook  gives 
you  here.  Yes,"  she  continued,  addressing  me,  "  that's 
the  worst  thing  about  the  clubs.  They  make  the  men 
so  comfortable  that  they  say  it's  one  of  the  principal 
obstacles  to  early  marriages.  The  young  men  try  to 
get  lodgings  near  them,  so  that  they  can  take  their 
meals  there,  and  they  know  they  get  much  better  things 
to  eat  than  they  could  have  in  a  house  of  their  own  at 
a  great  deal  more  expense,  and  so  they  simply  don't 
think  of  getting  married.  Of  course,"  she  said,  with 
that  wonderful,  unintentional,  or  at  least  unconscious, 
frankness  of  hers,  "  I  don't  blame  the  clubs  altogether. 
There's  no  use  denying  that  girls  are  expensively 
brought  up,  and  that  a  young  man  has  to  think  twice 
before  taking  one  of  them  out  of  the  kind  of  home  she's 
used  to  and  putting  her  into  the  kind  of  home  he  can 
give  her.  If  the  clubs  have  killed  early  marriages, 
the  women  have  created  the  clubs." 

"  Do  women  go  much  to  them  ?"  I  asked,  choosing 
this  question  as  a  safe  one. 

"  Much  /"  she  screamed.  "  They  don't  go  at  all ! 
They  can't!  They  won't  7c ^  us !  To  be  sure,  there  are 
some  that  have  rooms  where  ladies  can  go  with  their 

43 


THKOUGII  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

friends  who  are  members,  and  have  limcli  or  dinner; 
but  as  for  seeing  the  inside  of  the  club-house  proper, 
where  these  great  creatures  " — she  indicated  her  hus- 
band— "  are  sitting  up,  smoking  and  telling  stories,  it 
isn't  to  be  dreamed  of." 

Her  husband  laughed.  "  You  wouldn't  like  the 
smoking,  Dolly." 

"  ISTor  the  stories,  some  of  them,"  she  retorted. 

"■  Oh,  the  stories  are  always  first-rate,"  he  said,  and 
he  laughed  more  than  before. 

"  And  they  never  gossip  at  the  clubs,  Mr.  Homos — 
never !"  she  added. 

"  Well,  hardly  ever,"  said  her  husband,  with  an  in- 
tonation that  I  did  not  understand.  It  seemed  to  be 
some  sort  of  catch-phrase. 

"  All  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Makely,  "  is  that  I  like  to 
have  my  husband  belong  to  his  club.  It's  a  nice  place 
for  him  in  summer;  and  very  often  in  winter,  when 
I'm  dull,  or  going  out  somewhere  that  he  hates,  he  can 
go  dowm  to  his  club  and  smoke  a  cigar,  and  come 
home  just  about  the  time  I  get  in,  and  it's  much  bet- 
ter than  worrying  through  the  evening  with  a  book. 
I  He  hates  books,  poor  Dick!"  She  looked  fondly  at 
'him,  as  if  this  were  one  of  the  greatest  merits  in  the 
world.  "  But  I  confess  I  shouldn't  like  him  to  be  a 
mere  club  man,  like  some  of  tliem." 

"  But  how  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Why,  belonging  to  five  or  six,  or  more,  even ;  and 
spending  their  whole  time  at  them,  when  they're  not  at 
business." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  Mr.  Makely  put  on  an  air 
of  modest  worth,  which  he  carried  off  with  his  usual 
wink  towards  me.  I  said,  finally,  "  And  if  the  ladies 
are  not  admitted  to  the  men's  clubs,  why  don't  they 
have  clubs  of  their  own  ?" 

44 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

"  Oh,  they  have — several,  I  believe.  But  who  wants 
to  go  and  meet  a  lot  of  women  ?  You  meet  enough  of 
them  in  society,  goodness  knows.  You  hardly  meet 
any  one  else,  especially  at  afternoon  teas.  They  bore 
you  to  death." 

Mrs.  Makely's  nerves  seemed  to  lie  in  the  direction 
of  a  prolongation  of  this  subject,  and  I  asked  my  next 
question  a  little  away  from  it.  "  I  wish  you  would 
tell  me,  Mrs.  Makely,  something  about  your  Avay  of 
provisioning  your  household.  You  said  that  the  gro- 
cer's and  butcher's  man  came  up  to  the  kitchen  with 
your  supplies — " 

"  Yes,  and  the  milkman  and  the  iceman ;  the  iceman 
always  puts  the  ice  into  the  refrigerator;  it's  very  con- 
venient, and  quite  like  your  own  house." 

"  But  you  go  out  and  select  the  things  yourself  the 
day  before,  or  in  the  morning  ?" 

"  Oh,  not  at  all !  The  men  come  and  the  cook  gives 
the  order;  she  knows  pretty  well  what  we  want  on  the 
different  days,  and  I  never  meddle  with  it  from  one 
week's  end  to  the  other,  unless  we  have  friends.  The 
tradespeople  send  in  their  bills  at  the  end  of  the  month, 
and  that's  all  there  is  of  it."  Her  husband  gave  me 
one  of  his  queer  looks,  and  she  went  on :  "  When  we 
were  younger,  and  just  beginning  housekeeping,  I  used 
to  go  out  and  order  the  things  myself;  I  used  even  to 
go  to  the  big  markets,  and  half  kill  myself  trying  to 
get  things  a  little  cheaper  at  one  place  and  another, 
and  waste  more  car-fare  and  lay  up  more  doctor's  bills 
than  it  would  all  come  to,  ten  times  over.  I  used  to 
fret  my  life  out,  remembering  the  prices;  but  now, 
thank  goodness,  that's  all  over.  I  don't  know  any  more 
what  beef  is  a  pound  than  my  husband  does ;  if  a  thing 
isn't  good,  I  send  it  straight  back,  and  that  puts  them 
on  their  honor,  you  know,  and  they  have  to  give  me  the 

45 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  XEEDLE 

best  of  everything.  The  bills  average  about  the  same, 
from  month  to  month;  a  little  more  if  we  have  com- 
pany; but  if  they're  too  outrageous,  I  make  a  fuss  with 
the  cook,  and  she  scolds  the  men,  and  then  it  goes 
better  for  a  while.     Still,  it's  a  great  bother." 

I  confess  that  I  did  not  see  what  the  bother  was, 
but  I  had  not  the  courage  to  ask,  for  I  had  already 
conceived  a  wholesome  dread  of  the  mystery  of  an 
American  lady's  nerves.  So  I  merely  suggested,  "  And 
that  is  the  way  that  people  usually  manage  ?" 

"  Why,"  she  said,  "  I  suppose  that  some  old-fash- 
ioned people  still  do  their  marketing,  and  people  that 
have  to  look  to  their  outgoes,  and  know  what  every 
mouthful  costs  them.  But  their  lives  are  not  worth 
having.  Eveleth  Strange  does  it  —  or  she  did  do  it 
when  she  was  in  the  country;  I  dare  say  she  won't 
M'hen  she  gets  back — just  from  a  sense  of  duty,  and 
because  she  says  that  a  housekeeper  ought  to  know 
about  her  expenses.  But  I  ask  her  who  will  care 
whether  she  knows  or  not ;  and  as  for  giving  the  money 
to  the  poor  that  she  saves  by  spending  economically, 
I  tell  her  that  the  butchers  and  the  grocers  have  to 
live,  too,  as  well  as  the  poor,  and  so  it's  as  broad  as  it's 
long." 


XI 

I  COULD  not  make  out  whether  Mr.  Makely  approved 
of  his  wife's  philosophy  or  not;  I  do  not  believe  he 
thought  much  about  it.  The  money  probably  came 
easily  with  him,  and  he  let  it  go  easily,  as  an  American 
likes  to  do.  There  is  nothing  penurious  or  sordid  about 
this  curious  people,  so  fierce  in  the  pursuit  of  riches. 
When  these  are  once  gained,  they  seem  to  have  no  value  |  ^ 
to  the  man  who  has  won  them,  and  he  has  generally  noil 
object  in  life  but  to  see  his  womankind  spend  them.    [{ 

This  is  the  season  of  the  famous  Thanksgiving, 
which  has  now  become  the  national  holiday,  but  has 
no  longer  any  savor  in  it  of  the  grim  Puritanism  it 
sprang  from.  It  is  now  appointed  by  the  president 
and  the  governors  of  the  several  states,  in  proclama- 
tions enjoining  a  pious  gratitude  upon  the  people  for 
their  continued  prosperity  as  a  nation,  and  a  public 
acknowledgment  of  the  divine  blessings.  The  bless- 
ings are  supposed  to  be  of  the  material  sort,  grouped 
in  the  popular  imagination  as  good  times,  and  it  is 
hard  to  see  what  they  are  when  hordes  of  men  and 
women  of  every  occupation  are  feeling  the  pinch  of 
poverty  in  their  different  degrees.  It  is  not  merely 
those  who  have  always  the  wolf  at  their  doors  who  are 
now  suffering,  but  those  whom  the  wolf  never  threat- 
ened before;  those  who  amuse  as  well  as  those  who 
serve  the  rich  are  alike  anxious  and  fearful,  where 
they  are  not  already  in  actual  want ;  thousands  of  poor 
players,   as  well   as   hundreds   of   thousands   of   poor 

47 


THROUGH  THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

laborers,  are  out  of  employment,  and  the  winter  threat' 
ens  to  be  one  of  dire  misery.  Yet  you  would  not 
imagine  from  the  smiling  face  of  things,  as  you  would 
see  it  in  the  better  parts  of  this  great  city,  that  there 
was  a  heavy  heart  or  an  empty  stomach  anywhere 
below  it.  In  fact,  people  here  are  so  used  to  seeing 
other  people  in  want  that  it  no  longer  affects  them  as 
reality;  it  is  merely  dramatic,  or  hardly  so  lifelike  as 
that — it  is  merely  histrionic.  It  is  rendered  still  more 
spectacular  to  the  imaginations  of  the  fortunate  by  the 
melodrama  of  charity  they  are  invited  to  take  part  in 
by  endless  appeals,  and  their  fancy  is  flattered  by  the 
notion  that  they  are  curing  the  distress  they  are  only 
slightly  relieving  by  a  gift  from  their  superfluity.  The 
charity,  of  course,  is  better  than  nothing,  but  it  is  a 
fleeting  mockery  of  the  trouble,  at  the  best.  If  it  were 
proposed  that  the  city  should  subsidize  a  theatre  at 
whicli  the  idle  players  could  get  employment  in  pro- 
ducing good  plays  at  a  moderate  cost  to  the  people, 
the  notion  would  not  be  considered  more  ridiculous  than 
that  of  founding  municipal  works  for  the  different 
sorts  of  idle  workers;  and  it  would  not  be  thought 
half  so  nefarious,  for  the  proposition  to  give  work  by 
the  collectivity  is  supposed  to  be  in  contravention  of 
I  the  sacred  principle  of  monopolistic  competition  so 
dear  to  the  American  economist,  and  it  would  be  de- 
nounced as  an  approximation  to  the  surrender  of  the 
city  to  anarchism  and  destruction  by  dynamite. 

But  as  I  have  so  often  said,  the  American  life  is  in 
no  wise  logical,  and  you  will  not  be  surprised,  though 
you  may  be  shocked  or  amused,  to  learn  that  the  fes- 
tival of  Thanksgiving  is  now  so  generally  devoted  to 
witnessing  a  game  of  football  between  the  elevens 
of  two  great  universities  that  the  services  at  the 
churches  are  very  scantily  attended.     The  Americans 

48 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

are  practical,  if  they  are  not  logical,  and  this  prefer- 
ence of  football  to  prayer  and  praise  on  Thanksgiving- 
day  has  gone  so  far  that  now  a  principal  clmrch  in  the 
city  holds  its  services  on  Thanksgiving  -  eve,  so  that 
the  worshippers  may  not  be  tempted  to  keep  away  from 
their  favorite  game. 

There  is  always  a  heavy  dinner  at  home  after  the 
game,  to  console  the  friends  of  those  who  have  lost 
and  to  heighten  the  joy  of  the  winning  side,   among 
the  comfortable  peopie.     The  poor  recognize  the  day 
largely  as  a  sort  of  carnival.     They  go  about  in  mas- 
querade on  the  eastern  avenues,  and  the  children  of 
the  foreign  races  who  populate  that  quarter  penetrate 
the  better  streets,  blowing  horns  and  begging  of  the 
passers.     They  have  probably  no  more  sense  of  its  dif- 
ference from  the  old  carnival  of  Catholic  Europe  than 
from  the  still  older  Saturnalia  of  pagan  times.     Per- 
haps you  will  say  that  a  masquerade  is  no  more  pagan 
than  a  football  game;   and  I  confess  that  I  have  a 
pleasure  in  that  innocent  misapprehension  of  the  holi- 
day on  the  East  Side.     I  am  not  more  censorious  of 
it  than  I  am  of  the  displays  of  festival  cheer  at  the 
provision-stores  or  green-groceries  throughout  the  city 
at  this  time.     They  are  almost  as  numerous  on  the 
avenues  as  the  drinking-saloons,  and,  thanks  to  them, 
the  wasteful  housekeeping  is  at  least  convenient  in  a 
high  degree.     The  waste  is  inevitable  with  the  system 
of  separate  kitchens,  and  it  is  not  in  provisions  alone, 
but  in  labor  and  in  time,  a  hundred  cooks  doing  the 
work  of  one;  but  the  Americans  have  no  conception 
of  our  co-operative  housekeeping,   and  so  the  folly 
goes  on. 

Meantime  the  provision  -  stores  add  much  to  their 
effect  of  crazy  gayety  on  the  avenues.  The  variety 
and  harmony  of  colors  is  very  great,  and  this  morn- 

49 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

ing  I  stood  so  long  admiring  the  arrangement  in 
one  of  them  that  I  am  afraid  I  rendered  myself 
a  little  suspicious  to  the  policeman  guarding  the 
liquor-store  on  the  nearest  corner;  there  seems  always 
to  be  a  policeman  assigned  to  this  duty.  The  display 
was  on  either  side  of  the  provisioner's  door,  and  be- 
gan, on  one  hand,  Avith  a  basal  line  of  pumpkins  well 
out  on  the  sidewalk.  Then  it  was  built  up  with  the 
soft  white  and  cool  green  of  cauliflowers  and  open 
boxes  of  red  and  white  grapes,  to  the  window  that 
flourished  in  banks  of  celery  and  rosy  apples.  On  the 
other  side,  gray-green  squashes  formed  the  foundation, 
and  the  wall  was  sloped  upward  with  the  delicious 
salads  you  can  find  here,  the  dark  red  of  beets,  the 
yellow  of  carrots,  and  the  blue  of  cabbages.  The  asso- 
ciation of  colors  was  very  artistic,  and  even  the  line  of 
mutton  carcases  overhead,  with  each  a  brace  of  grouse 
or  lialf  a  dozen  quail  in  its  embrace,  and  flanked  with 
long  sides  of  beef  at  the  four  ends  of  the  line,  was 
picturesque,  though  the  sight  of  the  carnage  at  the 
provision-stores  here  would  always  be  dreadful  to  an 
Altrurian ;  in  the  great  markets  it  is  intolerable.  This 
sort  of  business  is  mostly  in  the  hands  of  the  Germans, 
who  have  a  good  eye  for  such  effects  as  may  be  studied 
in  it ;  but  the  fruiterers  are  nearly  all  Italians,  and 
their  stalls  are  charming.  I  always  like,  too,  the  cheeri- 
ness  of  the  chestnut  and  peanut  ovens  of  the  Italians ; 
the  pleasant  smell  and  friendly  smoke  that  rise  from 
them  suggest  a  simple  and  homelike  life  which  there 
are  so  many  things  in  this  great,  weary,  heedless  city 
to  make  one  forget. 


XII 


But  I  am  allowing  myself  to  wander  too  far  from 
Mrs.  Makely  and  her  letter,  which  reached  me  only 
two  days  before  Thanksgiving. 

"  Mt  dear  Mr.  Homos, — Will  you  give  me  the  pleasure  of 
your  company  at  dinner,  on  Thanksgiving-day,  at  eight  o'clock, 
very  informally.  My  friend,  Mrs.  Bellington  Strange,  has  un- 
expectedly returned  from  Europe  within  the  week,  and  I  am  ask- 
ing a  few  friends,  whom  I  can  trust  to  excuse  this  very  short 
notice,  to  meet  her. 
"  With  Mr.  Makely's  best  regards, 

"  Youra  cordially, 

"DoBOTHEA  Makely. 

"The  Sphinx, 

November  the  twenty  sixth, 
Eighteen  hundred  and 
Ninety-three." 

I  must  tell  you  that  it  has  been  a  fad  with  the  ladies 
here  to  spell  out  their  dates,  and,  though  the  fashion 
is  waning,  Mrs.  Makely  is  a  woman  who  would  remain 
in  such  an  absurdity  among  the  very  last.  I  will  let 
you  make  your  own  conclusions  concerning  this,  for 
though,  as  an  Altrurian,  I  cannot  respect  her,  I  like 
her  so  much,  and  have  so  often  enjoyed  her  generous 
hospitality,  that  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  criticise  her 
except  by  the  implication  of  the  facts.  She  is  anoma- 
lous, but,  to  our  way  of  thinking,  all  the  Americans  I 
have  met  are  anomalous,  and  she  has  the  merits  that 
you  would  not  logically  attribute  to  her  character.  Of 
course,  I  cannot  feel  that  her  evident  regard  for  me  is 

51 


TllKOUaii   THE   EYE    OF   THE    NEEDLE 

the  least  of  these,  though  I  like  to  think  that  it  is 
founded  on  more  reason  than  the  rest. 

I  have  by  this  time  become  far  too  well  versed  in 
the  polite  insincerities  of  the  plutocratic  world  to  im- 
agine that,  because  she  asked  me  to  come  to  her  din- 
ner very  informally,  I  was  not  to  come  in  all  the  state 
I  could  put  into  my  dress.  You  know  what  the  even- 
ing dress  of  men  is  here,  from  the  costumes  in  our 
museum,  and  you  can  well  believe  that  I  never  put  on 
those  ridiculous  black  trousers  without  a  sense  of  their 
grotesqueness — that  scrap  of  waistcoat  reduced  to  a  mere 
rim,  so  as  to  show  the  whole  white  breadth  of  the 
starched  shirt-bosom,  and  that  coat  chopped  away  till 
it  seems  nothing  but  tails  and  lapels.  It  is  true  that  I 
might  go  out  to  dinner  in  our  national  costume;  in 
fact,  Mrs.  Makely  has  often  begged  me  to  wear  it,  for 
she  says  the  Chinese  wear  theirs ;  but  I  have  not  cared 
to  make  the  sensation  which  I  must  if  I  wore  it;  my 
outlandish  views  of  life  and  my  frank  study  of  their 
customs  signalize  me  quite  sufficiently  among  the 
Americans. 

At  the  hour  named  I  appeared  in  Mrs.  Makely's 
drawing-room  in  all  the  formality  that  I  knew  her 
invitation,  to  come  very  informally,  really  meant.  I 
found  myself  the  first,  as  I  nearly  always  do,  but  I 
had  only  time  for  a  word  or  two  with  my  hostess  be- 
fore the  others  began  to  come.  She  hastily  explained 
that  as  soon  as  she  knew  Mrs.  Strange  was  in  'New 
York  she  had  despatched  a  note  telling  her  that  I  was 
still  here;  and  that  as  she  could  not  get  settled  in  time 
to  dine  at  home,  she  must  come  and  take  Thanksgiving 
dinner  with  her.  "  She  will  have  to  go  out  with  Mr. 
Makely ;  but  I  am  going  to  put  you  next  to  her  at 
table,  for  I  want  you  both  to  have  a  good  time.  But 
don't  you  forget  that  you  are  going  to  take  one  out." 

52 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

I  said  that  I  sliould  certainly  not  forget  it,  and  I 
showed  her  the  envelope  with  mj  name  on  the  outside, 
and  hers  on  a  card  inside,  which  the  serving-man  at 
the  door  had  given  me  in  the  hall,  as  the  first  token 
that  the  dinner  was  to  be  unceremonious. 

She  laughed,  and  said :  "  I've  had  the  luck  to  pick 
up  two  or  three  other  agTeeable  people  that  I  know 
will  be  glad  to  meet  you.  Usually  it's  such  a  scratch 
lot  at  Thanksgiving,  for  everybody  dines  at  home  that 
can,  and  you  have  to  trust  to  the  highways  and  the 
byways  for  your  guests,  if  you  give  a  dinner.  But  I 
did  want  to  bring  Mrs.  Strange  and  you  together,  and 
so  I  chanced  it.  Of  course,  it's  a  sent-in  dinner,  as 
you  must  have  inferred  from  the  man  at  the  door; 
I've  given  my  servants  a  holiday,  and  had  Claret's 
people  do  the  whole  thing.  It's  as  broad  as  it's  long, 
and,  as  my  husband  says,  you  might  as  well  be  hung 
for  a  sheep  as  a  lamb ;  and  it  saves  bother.  Everybody 
will  know  it's  sent  in,  so  that  nobody  will  be  deceived. 
There'll  be  a  turkey  in  it  somewhere,  and  cranberry 
sauce;  I've  insisted  on  that;  but  it  won't  be  a  regular 
American  Thanksgiving  dinner,  and  I'm  rather  sorry, 
on  your  account,  for  I  w^anted  you  to  see  one,  and  I 
meant  to  have  had  you  here,  just  with  ourselves ;  but 
Eveleth  Strange's  coming  back  put  a  new  face  on 
things,  and  so  I've  gone  in  for  this  affair,  which  isn't 
at  all  what  you  would  like.  That's  the  reason  I  tell 
you  at  once  it's  sent  in." 


/ 


XIII 

I  AM  SO  often  at  a  loss  for  the  connection  in  Mrs. 
Makely's  ideas  that  I  am  more  patient  with,  her  inco- 
herent jargon  than  you  will  be,  I  am  afraid.  It  went 
on  to  much  the  effect  that  I  have  tried  to  report  until 
the  moment  she  took  the  hand  of  the  guest  who  came 
next.  They  arrived,  imtil  there  were  eight  of  us  in 
all,  Mrs.  Strange  coming  last,  with  excuses  for  being 
late.  I  had  somehow  figured  her  as  a  person  rather 
mystical  and  recluse  in  appearance,  perhaps  on  account 
of  her  name,  and  I  had  imagined  her  tall  and  superb. 
But  she  was,  really,  rather  small,  though  not  below 
the  woman's  average,  and  she  had  a  face  more  round 
than  otherwise,  with  a  sort  of  business-like  earnest- 
ness, but  a  very  charming  smile,  and  presently,  as  I 
saw,  an  American  sense  of  humor.  She  had  brown 
hair  and  gray  eyes,  and  teeth  not  too  regular  to  be 
monotonous;  her  mouth  was  very  sweet,  whether  she 
laughed  or  sat  gravely  silent.  She  at  once  affected 
me  like  a  person  who  had  been  sobered  beyond  her 
nature  by  responsibilities,  and  had  steadily  strength- 
ened under  the  experiences  of  life.  She  was  dressed 
with  a  sort  of  personal  taste,  in  a  rich  gown  of  black 
lace,  which  came  up  to  her  throat;  and  she  did  not 
subject  me  to  that  embarrassment  I  always  feel  in  the 
presence  of  a  lady  who  is  much  decolletee,  when  I  sit 
next  her  or  face  to  face  with  her:  I  cannot  always 
look  at  her  without  a  sense  of  taking  an  immodest  ad- 
vantage.    Sometimes  I  find  a  kind  of  pathos  in  this 

54 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

sacrifice  of  fashion,  which  affects  me  as  if  the  poor  lady 
were  wearing  that  sort  of  gown  because  she  thought 
she  really  ought,  and  then  I  keep  my  eyes  firmly  on 
hers,  or  avert  them  altogether ;  but  there  are  other  cases 
which  have  not  this  appealing  quality.  Yet  in  the 
very  worst  of  the  cases  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  sup- 
pose that  there  was  a  display  personally  meant  of 
the  display  personally  made.  Even  then  it  would  be 
found  that  the  gown  was  worn  so  because  the  dress- 
maker had  made  it  so,  and,  whether  she  had  made  it 
in  this  comitry  or  in  Europe,  that  she  had  made  it  in 
compliance  with  a  European  custom.  In  fact,  all  the 
society  customs  of  the  Americans  follow  some  Euro- 
pean original,  and  usually  some  English  original;  and 
it  is  only  fair  to  say  that  in  this  particular  custom 
they  do  not  go  to  the  English  extreme. 

We  did  not  go  out  to  dinner  at  Mrs.  Makely's  by 
the  rules  of  English  precedence,  because  there  are 
nominally  no  ranks  here,  and  we  could  not;  but  I  am 
sure  it  will  not  be  long  before  the  Americans  will  be- 
gin playing  at  precedence  just  as  they  now  play  at  the 
other  forms  of  aristocratic  society.  Eor  the  present, 
however,  there  was  nothing  for  us  to  do  but  to  pro- 
ceed, when  dinner  was  served,  in  such  order  as  offered 
itself,  after  Mr.  Makely  gave  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Strange ; 
though,  of  course,  the  white  shoulders  of  the  other 
ladies  went  gleaming  out  before  the  white  shoulders  of 
Mrs.  Makely  shone  beside  my  black  ones.  I  have 
now  become  so  iised  to  these  observances  that  they 
no  longer  affect  me  as  they  once  did,  and  as  I  sup- 
pose my  account  of  them  must  affect  you,  pain- 
fully, comically.  But  I  have  always  the  sense  of 
having  a  part  in  amateur  theatricals,  and  I  do  not  see 
how  the  Americans  can  fail  to  have  the  same  sense, 
for  there  is  nothing  spontaneous  in  them,  and  nothing 

55 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

that  lias  grown  eveu  dramatically  out  of  their  own 
life. 

Often  when  I  admire  the  perfection  of  the  stage- 
setting,  it  is  with  a  vague  feeling  that  I  am  derelict  in 
not  offering  it  an  explicit  applause.  In  fact,  this  is 
permitted  in  some  sort  and  measure,  as  now  when  we 
sat  down  at  Mrs.  Makely's  exquisite  table,  and  the 
ladies  frankly  recognized  her  touch,  in  it.  One  of  them 
found  a  phrase  for  it  at  once,  and  pronounced  it  a 
symphony  in  chrysanthemums;  for  the  color  and  the 
character  of  these  flowers  played  through  all  the  ap- 
pointments of  the  table,  and  rose  to  a  magnificent 
finale  in  the  vast  group  in  the  middle  of  the  board, 
infinite  in  their  caprices  of  tint  and  design.  Another 
lady  said  that  it  was  a  dream,  and  then  Mrs.  Makely 
said,  "  'No,  a  memory,"  and  confessed  that  sbe  had 
studied  the  effect  from  her  recollection  of  some  tables 
at  a  chrysanthemum  show  held  here  year  before  last, 
which  seemed  failures  because  they  were  so  simply  and 
crudely  adapted  in  the  china  and  napery  to  merely  one 
kind  and  color  of  the  flower. 

"  Then,"  she  added,  "  I  wanted  to  do  something  very 
chrysanthemummy,  becauce  it  seems  to  me  the  Thanks- 
giving flower,  and  belongs  to  Thanksgiving  quite  as 
much  as  holly  belongs  to  Christmas." 

Everybody  applauded  her  intention,  and  they  hungri- 
ly fell  to  upon  the  excellent  oysters,  with  her  warning 
that  we  had  better  make  the  most  of  everything  in  its 
turn,  for  she  had  conformed  lier  dinner  to  the  brevity 
of  the  notice  she  had  given  her  guests. 


XIV 


T  .^^'^  "^        *^'^  '^^''''^^  '^^'  I  ^^'^11  try  to  tell  you,  for 
I  thmk  that  It  will  interest  jou  to  knoAv  what  people 
here    hmk  a  very  simple  dinner.     That  is,  people  of 
any  degree  of  fashion;  for  the  unfashionable  Amer- 
icans, who  are  innumerably  in  the  majority,  have    no 
more  than  the  Altrurians,  seen  snch  a  dinner  as  ilrs. 
JVlakely  s.    This  sort  generally  sit  down  to  a  single  dish 
of  meat,  with  two  or  three  vegetables,  and  they  drink 
tea  or  coffee,  or  water  only,  with  their  dinner.     Even 
when  they  have  company,  as  they  say,  the  things  are 
all  put  on  the  table  at  once;  and  the  average  of  Amer- 
icans who  have  seen  a  dinner  served  in  courses,  after 
the  Kussian  manner,  invariable  in  the  fine  world  here 
IS  not  greater  than  those  who  have  seen  a  serving-man 
m    ivery     Among  these  the  host  piles  up  his  guest's 
plate  with  meat  and  vegetables,  and  it  is  passed  from 
hand  to  hand  till  it  reaches  him;  his  drink  arrives  from 
the  hostess  by  the  same  means.     One  maid  serves  the 
table  m  a  better  class,  and  two  maids  in  a  class  still 
better;  It  is  only  when  you  reach  people  of  verv  decided 
torm  that  you  find  a  man  in  a  black  coat  behind  your 
chair;   Mrs.    Makely,   mindful   of  the   informality  of 
her  dinner  in  everything,  had  two  men 

I  should  say  the  difference  between  the  Altrurians 
and  the  unfashionable  Americans,  in  view  of  such  a 
dinner  as  she  gave  us,  would  be  that,  while  it  would 
seem  to^  us  abominable  for  its  extravagance,  and  re- 
volting m  Its  appeals  to  appetite,  it  would  seem  to  most 

57 


TimOUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

of  such  Americans  altogether  admirable  and  enviable, 
and  would  appeal  to  their  ambition  to  give  such  a  din- 
ner themselves  as  soon  as  ever  they  could. 

Well,  with  our  oysters  we  had  a  delicate  French 
wine,  though  I  am  told  that  formerly  Spanish  wines 
were  served.  A  delicious  soup  followed  the  oysters, 
and  then  we  had  fish  with  sliced  cucumbers  dressed 
with  oil  and  vinegar,  like  a  salad ;  and  I  suppose  you 
will  ask  what  we  could  possibly  have  eaten  more.  But 
this  was  only  the  beginning,  and  next  there  came  a 
course  of  sweetbreads  with  green  pease.  With  this  the 
champagne  began  at  once  to  flow,  for  Mrs.  Makely  was 
nothing  if  not  original,  and  she  had  champagtie  very 
promptly.  One  of  the  gentlemen  praised  her  for  it, 
and  said  yon  could  not  have  it  too  soon,  and  he  had 
secretly  hoped  it  would  have  begun  with  the  oysters. 
ISText,  we  had  a  remove  —  a  tenderloin  of  beef,  with 
mushrooms,  fresh,  and  not  of  the  canned  sort  which  it 
is  usually  accompanied  with.  This  fact  won  our  host- 
ess more  compliments  from  the  gentlemen,  which  could 
not  have  gratified  her  more  if  she  had  dressed  and 
cooked  the  dish  herself.  She  insisted  upon  our  trying 
the  stewed  terrapin,  for,  if  it  did  come  in  a  little 
by  the  neck  and  shoulders,  it  was  still  in  place  at  a 
Thanksgiving  dinner,  because  it  Avas  so  American ;  and 
the  stuffed  peppers,  which,  if  they  were  not  American, 
were  at  least  Mexican,  and  originated  in  the  kitchen 
of  a  sister  republic.  There  were  one  or  two  other  side- 
dishes,  and,  with  all,  the  burgundy  began  to  be  poured 
out. 

Mr.  Makely  said  that  claret  all  came  now  from  Cali- 
fornia, no  matter  Avhat  French  chateau  they  named  it 
after,  but  burgundy  you  could  not  err  in.  His  guests 
were  now  drinking  the  different  wines,  and  to  much 
the  same  effect,  I  should  think,  as  if  they  had  mixed 

58 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

them  all  in  one  cup ;  though  I  ought  to  say  that  several 
of  the  ladies  took  no  wine,  and  kept  me  in  countenance 
after  the  first  taste  I  was  obliged  to  take  of  each,  in 
order  to  pacify  my  host. 

You  must  know  that  all  the  time  there  were  plates 
of  radishes,  olives,  celery,  and  roasted  almonds  set 
about  that  every  one  ate  of  without  much  reference  to 
the  courses.  The  talking  and  the  feasting  were  at  their 
height,  but  there  was  a  little  flagging  of  the  appetite, 
perhaps,  when  it  received  the  stimulus  of  a  water-ice 
flavored  with  rum.  After  eating  it  I  immediately 
experienced  an  extraordinary  revival  of  my  hunger  (I 
am  ashamed  to  confess  that  I  was  gorging  myself  like 
the  rest),  but  I  quailed  inwardly  when  one  of  the  men- 
servants  set  down  before  Mr.  Makely  a  roast  turkey 
that  looked  as  large  as  an  ostrich.  It  was  received 
with  cries  of  joy,  and  one  of  the  gentlemen  said,  "  Ah, 
Mrs.  Makely,  I  was  waiting  to  see  how  you  would  in- 
terpolate the  turkey,  but  you  never  fail.  I  knew  you 
would  get  it  in  somewhere.  But  where,"  he  added,  in 
a  burlesque  whisper,  behind  his  hand,  "  are  the — " 

"  Canvasback  duck  ?"  she  asked,  and  at  that  moment 
the  servant  set  before  the  anxious  inquirer  a  platter 
of  these  renowned  birds,  which  you  know  something 
of  already  from  the  report  our  emissaries  have  given  of 
their  cult  among  the  Americans. 

Every  one  laughed,  and  after  the  gentleman  had 
made  a  despairing  flourish  over  them  with  a  carving- 
knife  in  emulation  of  Mr.  Makely's  emblematic  at- 
tempt upon  the  turkey,  both  were  taken  away  and 
carved  at  a  sideboard.  They  were  then  served  in  slices, 
the  turkey  with  cranberry  sauce,  and  the  ducks  with 
currant  jelly;  and  I  noticed  that  no  one  took  so  much 
of  the  turkey  that  he  could  not  suffer  himself  to  be 
helped  also  to  the  duck.    I  must  tell  you  that  there  was 

59 


TIIKOUGH   THE    EYE    OF   THE   NEEDLE 

a  salad  with  the  duck,  and  after  that  there  was  an  ice- 
cream, with  fruit  and  all  manner  of  candied  fruits, 
and  candies,  different  kinds  of  cheese,  coffee,  and  li- 
queurs to  drink  after  the  coft'ee. 

"  Well,  now,"  ]\Irs.  Makely  proclaimed,  in  high  de- 
light with  her  triumph,  "  I  must  let  you  imagine  the 
pumpkin  -  pie.  I  meant  to  have  it,  because  it  isn't 
really  Thanksgiving  without  it.  But  I  couldn't,  for 
the  life  of  me,  see  where  it  would  come  in." 


XV 


The  sally  of  the  hostess  made  them  all  laugh,  and 
they  began  to  talk  about  the  genuine  American  char- 
acter of  the  holiday,  and  what  a  fine  thing  it  was  to 
have  something  truly  national.  They  praised  Mrs. 
Makely  for  thinking  of  so  many  American  dishes,  and 
the  facetious  gentleman  said  that  she  rendered  no 
greater  tribute  than  was  due  to  the  overruling  Provi- 
dence which  had  so  abundantly  bestowed  them  upon 
the  Americans  as  a  people.  "  You  must  have  been 
glad,  Mrs.  Strange,"  he  said  to  the  lady  at  my  side, 
"  to  get  back  to  our  American  oysters.  There  seems 
nothing  else  so  potent  to  bring  us  home  from  Europe." 

"  I'm  afraid,"  she  answered,  "  that  I  don't  care  so 
much  for  the  American  oyster  as  I  should.  But  I  am 
certainly  glad  to  get  back." 

"  In  time  for  the  turkey,  perhaps  ?" 

"  Xo,  I  care  no  more  for  the  turkey  than  for  the 
oyster  of  my  native  land,"  said  the  lady. 

"  Ah,  well,  say  the  canvasback  duck,  then  ?  The  can- 
vasback  duck  is  no  alien.  He  is  as  thoroughly  Amer- 
ican as  the  turkey,  or  as  any  of  us." 

"  'Eo,  I  should  not  have  missed  him,  either,"  per- 
sisted the  lady. 

"  WTiat  could  one  have  missed,"  the  gentleman  said, 
with  a  bow  to  the  hostess,  "  in  the  dinner  Mrs.  Makely 
has  given  us?  If  there  had  been  nothing,  I  should 
not  have  missed  it,"  and  when  the  laugh  at  his  droll- 
ing had  subsided  he  asked  Mrs.  Strange :  "  Then,  if  it 

61 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OE  THE  NEEDLE 

is  not  too  indiscreet,  might  I  inquire  what  in  the  world 
has  lured  you  again  to  our  shores,  if  it  was  not  the 
oyster,  nor  the  turkey,  nor  yet  the  canvasback  ?" 

"  The  American  dinner  -  party,"  said  the  lady,  with 
the  same  burlesque. 

"  Well,"  he  consented,  "  I  think  I  understand  you. 
It  is  different  from  the  English  dinner-party  in  being 
a  festivity  rather  than  a  solemnity;  though,  after  all, 
the  American  dinner  is  only  a  condition  of  the  Eng- 
lish dinner.  Do  you  find  us  much  changed,  Mrs. 
Strange  ?" 

"  I  think  we  are  every  year  a  little  more  European," 
said  the  lady.     "  One  notices  it  on  getting  home." 

"  I  supposed  we  Avere  so  European  already,"  re- 
turned the  gentleman,  "  that  a  European  landing 
among  us  would  think  he  had  got  back  to  his  starting- 
point  in  a  sort  of  vicious  circle.  I  am  myself  so  thor- 
oughly Europeanized  in  all  my  feelings  and  instincts 
that,  do  you  know,  Mrs.  Makely,  if  I  may  confess  it 
without  offence — " 

"  Oh,  by  all  means !"  cried  the  hostess. 

"  When  that  vast  bird  which  we  have  been  praising, 
that  colossal  roast  turkey,  appeared,  I  felt  a  shudder 
go  through  my  delicate  substance,  such  as  a  refined 
Englishman  might  have  experienced  at  the  sight,  and 
I  said  to  myself,  quite  as  if  I  were  not  one  of  you, 
"  Good  Heavens !  now  they  will  begin  talking  through 
their  noses  and  eating  with  their  knives.  It's  what  I 
might  have  expected !" 

It  was  impossible  not  to  feel  that  this  gentleman 
was  talking  at  me;  if  the  Americans  have  a  foreign 
guest,  they  always  talk  at  him  more'  or  less ;  and  I  was 
not  surprised  when  he  said,  "  I  think  our  friend,  Mr. 
Homos,  will  conceive  my  fine  revolt  from  the  crude 
period  of  our  existence  which  the  roast  turkey  marks 

62 


TimOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

as  distinctly  as  the  grafjiti  of  the  cave-dweller  proclaim 
his  epoch." 

"  No,"  I  protested,  "  I  am  afraid  that  I  have  not  the 
documents  for  the  interpretation  of  your  emotion.  I 
hope  you  will  take  pity  on  my  ignorance  and  tell  me 
just  what  you  mean." 

The  others  said  they  none  of  them  knew,  either,  and 
would  like  to  know,  and  the  gentleman  began  by  say- 
ing that  he  had  been  going  over  the  matter  in  his  mind 
on  his  way  to  dinner,  and  he  had  really  been  trying 
to  lead  up  to  it  ever  since  we  sat  down.  "  I've  been 
struck,  first  of  all,  by  the  fact,  in  our  evolution,  that 
we  haven't  socially  evolved  from  ourselves;  we've 
evolved  from  the  Europeans,  from  the  English.  I 
don't  think  you'll  find  a  single  society  rite  with  us  now 
that  had  its  origin  in  our  peculiar  national  life,  if  we 
have  a  peculiar  national  life;  I  doubt  it,  sometimes. 
If  you  begin  with  the  earliest  thing  in  the  day,  if  you 
begin  with  breakfast,  as  society  gives  breakfasts,  you 
have  an  English  breakfast,  though  American  people  and 
provisions." 

"  I  must  say,  I  think  they're  both  much  nicer,"  said 
Mrs.  Makely. 

"  Ah,  there  I  am  with  you !  We  borrow  the  form, 
but  we  infuse  the  spirit.  I  am  talking  about  the  form, 
though.  Then,  if  you  come  to  the  society  lunch,  which 
is  almost  indistinguishable  from  the  society  breakfast, 
you  have  the  English  lunch,  which  is  really  an  under- 
sized English  dinner.  The  afternoon  tea  is  English 
again,  with  its  troops  of  eager  females  and  stray,  re- 
luctant males ;  though  I  believe  there  are  rather  more 
men  at  the  English  teas,  owing  to  the  larger  leisure 
class  in  England.  The  afternoon  tea  and  the  '  at 
home '  are  as  nearly  alike  as  the  breakfast  and  the 
lunch.  Then,  in  the  course  of  time,  we  arrive  at  the 
5  63 


TllKOUGli   THE   EYE    OE   THE   NEEDLE 

great  society  function,  the  dinner;  and  what  is  the 
dinner  with  lis  but  the  dinner  of  our  mother  -  coun- 
try?" 

"  It  is  livelier,"  suggested  Mrs.  llakely,  again. 

"  Livelier,  I  grant  you,  but  I  am  still  speaking  of 
the  form,  and  not  of  the  spirit.  The  evening  recep- 
tion, which  is  gradually  fading  away,  as  a  separate 
rite,  with  its  supper  and  its  dance,  we  now  have  as 
the  English  have  it,  for  the  people  who  have  not  been 
asked  to  dinner.  The  ball,  which  brings  us  round  to 
breakfast  again,  is  again  the  ball  of  our  Anglo-Saxon 
kin  beyond  the  seas.  In  short,  from  the  society  point 
of  view  we  are  in  everything  their  mere  rinsings." 

"E"othing  of  the  kind!"  cried  Mrs.  Makely.  "I 
won't  let  you  say  such  a  thing !  On  Thanksgiving-day, 
too!  Why,  there  is  the  Thanksgiving  dinner  itself! 
If  that  isn't  purely  American,  I  should  like  to  know 
what  is." 

"  It  is  purely  American,  but  it  is  strictly  domestic ; 
it  is  not  society.  E'obody  but  some  great  soul  like  you, 
Mrs.  Makely,  would  have  the  courage  to  ask  anybody 
to  a  Thanksgiving  dinner,  and  even  you  ask  only  such 
easy-going  house-friends  as  we  are  proud  to  be.  You 
wouldn't  think  of  giving  a  dinner-party  on  Thanks- 
giving ?" 

"  'No,  1  certainly  shouldn't.  I  should  think  it  was 
very  presuming ;  and  you  are  all  as  nice  as  you  can  be 
to  have  come  to-day;  I  am  not  the  only  great  soul  at 
the  table.  But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  Thanks- 
giving is  a  purely  American  thing,  and  it's  more  popu- 
lar than  ever.  A  few  years  ago  you  never  heard  of  it 
outside  of  l^ew  England." 

The  gentleman  laughed.  "  You  are  perfectly  right, 
Mrs.  Makely,  as  you  always  are.  Thanksgiving  is 
purely  American.     So  is  the  corn-husking,  so  is  the 

64 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  XEEDLE 

apple-bee,  so  is  the  sugar-party,  so  is  the  spelling-match, 
so  is  the  church-sociable ;  but  none  of  these  have  had 
their  evolution  in  our  society  entertainments.  The 
'New  Year's  call  was  also  purely  American,  but  that  is 
now  as  extinct  as  the  dodo,  though  I  believe  the  other 
American  festivities  are  still  known  in  the  rural  dis- 
tricts." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Makely,  "  and  I  think  it's  a  great 
shame  that  we  can't  have  some  of  them  in  a  refined 
form  in  society.  I  once  went  to  a  sugar-party  up  in 
JSTew  Hampshire  when  I  was  a  girl,  and  I  never  en- 
joyed myself  so  much  in  my  life.  I  should  like  to 
make  up  a  party  to  go  to  one  somewhere  in  the  Cats- 
kills  in  March.  Will  you  all  go?  It  would  be  some- 
thing to  show  Mr.  Homos.  I  should  like  to  show 
him  something  really  American  before  he  goes  home. 
There's  nothing  American  left  in  society!" 

''  You  forget  the  American  woman,"  suggested  the 
gentleman.  "  She  is  always  American,  and  she  is  al- 
ways in  society." 

"  Yes,"  returned  our  hostess,  with  a  thoughtful  air, 
"  you're  quite  right  in  that.  One  always  meets  more 
women  than  men  in  society.  But  it's  because  the  men 
are  so  lazy,  and  so  comfortable  at  their  clubs,  they 
won't  go.  They  enjoy  themselves  well  enough  in  so- 
ciety after  they  get  there,  as  I  tell  my  husband  when 
he  grumbles  over  having  to  dress." 

"  Well,"  said  the  gentleman,  ''  a  great  many  things, 
the  day-time  things,  we  really  can't  come  to,  because 
we  don't  belong  to  the  aristocratic  class,  as  you  ladies 
do,  and  we  are  busy  dovm.  -  to"\\m.  But  I  don't  think 
we  are  reluctant  about  dinner;  and  the  young  fellows 
are  nearly  always  willing  to  go  to  a  ball,  if  the  sup- 
per's good  and  it's  a  house  where  they  don't  feel 
obliged  to  dance.     But  what  do  you  think,  Mr.  Ho- 

65 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

mos  ?"  he  asked.     "  How  does  your  observation  coin- 
cide with  my  experience  ?" 

I  answered  that  I  hardly  felt  myself  qualified  to 
speak,  for  though  I  had  assisted  at  the  different  kinds 
of  society  rites  he  had  mentioned,  thanks  to  the  hos- 
pitality of  my  friends  in  ISTew  York,  I  knew  the  Eng- 
lish functions  only  from  a  very  brief  stay  in  England 
on  my  way  here,  and  from  what  I  had  read  of  them  in 
English  fiction  and  in  tlie  relations  of  our  emissaries. 
He  inquired  into  our  emissary  system,  and  the  com- 
pany appeared  greatly  interested  in  such  account  of 
it  as  I  could  briefly  give. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  that  would  do  while  you  kept 
it  to  yourselves ;  but  now  that  your  country  is  known 
to  the  plutocratic  world,  your  public  documents  will 
be  apt  to  come  back  to  the  countries  your  emis- 
saries have  visited,  and  make  trouble.  The  first 
thing  you  know  some  of  our  bright  reporters  will  get 
on  to  one  of  your  emissaries,  and  interview  him, 
and  then  we  shall  get  what  you  think  of  us  at  first 
hands.  By  -  the  -  by,  have  you  seen  any  of  those 
primitive  social  delights  which  Mrs.  Makely  regrets 
so  much?" 

"  I !"  our  hostess  protested.  But  then  she  perceived 
that  he  was  joking,  and  she  let  me  answer. 

I  said  that  I  had  seen  them  nearly  all,  during  the 
past  year,  in  ^ew  England  and  in  the  West,  but  they 
appeared  to  me  inalienable  of  the  simpler  life  of  the 
country,  and  that  I  was  not  surprised  they  should  not 
have  found  an  evolution  in  the  more  artificial  society 
of  the  cities. 

"  I  see,"  he  returned,  "  that  you  reserve  your  opin- 
ion of  our  more  artificial  society;  but  you  may  be 
sure  that  our  reporters  will  get  it  out  of  you  yet  be- 
fore you  leave  us." 

66 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

"  Those  horrid  reporters !"  one  of  the  ladies  irrele- 
vantly sighed. 

The  gentleman  resumed :  "  In  the  mean  time,  I 
don't  mind  saying  how  it  strikes  me.  I  think  you  are 
quite  right  about  the  indigenous  American  things  be- 
ing adapted  only  to  the  simpler  life  of  the  country  and 
the  smaller  towns.  It  is  so  everywhere.  As  soon  as 
people  become  at  all  refined  they  look  down  upon 
what  is  their  own  as  something  vulgar.  But  it  is 
peculiarly  so  with  us.  We  have  nothing  national  that 
is  not  connected  with  the  life  of  work,  and  when  we 
begin  to  live  the  life  of  pleasure  we  must  borrow  from 
the  people  abroad,  who  have  always  lived  the  life  of 
pleasure." 

"  Mr.  Homos,  you  know,"  Mrs.  Makely  explained 
for  me,  as  if  this  were  the  aptest  moment,  "  thinks 
we  all  ought  to  work.  He  thinks  we  oughtn't  to  have 
any  servants." 

"  Oh  no,  my  dear  lady,"  I  put  in.  "  I  don't  think 
that  of  you  as  you  are.  N^one  of  you  could  see  more 
plainly  than  I  do  that  in  your  conditions  you  must 
have  servants,  and  that  you  cannot  possibly  work  unless 
poverty  obliges  you." 

The  other  ladies  had  turned  upon  me  with  surprise 
and  horror  at  Mrs.  Makely's  words,  but  they  now 
apparently  relented,  as  if  I  had  fully  redeemed  my- 
self from  the  charge  made  against  me.  Mrs.  Strange 
alone  seemed  to  have  found  nothing  monstrous  in  my 
supposed  position.  "  Sometimes,"  she  said,  "  I  wish 
we  had  to  work,  all  of  us,  and  that  we  could  be  freed 
from  our  servile  bondage  to  servants." 

Several  of  the  ladies  admitted  that  it  was  the  great- 
est slavery  in  the  world,  and  that  it  would  be  com- 
parative luxury  to  do  one's  own  work.  But  they  all 
asked,  in  one  form  or  another,  what  were  they  to  do, 

67 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

and  Mrs.  Strange  owned  that  she  did  not  know.  The 
facetious  gentleman  asked  me  how  the  ladies  did  in 
Altruria,  and  when  I  told  them,  as  well  as  I  could, 
they  were,  of  course,  very  civil  about  it,  but  I  could 
see  that  they  all  thought  it  impossible,  or,  if  not  im- 
possible, then  ridiculous.  I  did  not  fcol  bound  to 
defend  our  customs,  and  I  knew  very  well  that  each 
woman  there  was  imagining  herself  in  our  conditions 
Avith  the  curse  of  her  plutocratic  tradition  still  upon 
her.  They  could  not  do  otherwise,  any  of  them,  and 
they  seemed  to  get  tired  of  such  effort  as  they  did 
make. 

Mrs.  Makely  rose,  and  the  other  ladies  rose  with 
her,  for  the  Americans  follow  the  English  custom  in 
letting  the  men  remain  at  table  after  the  women  have 
left.  But  on  this  occasion  I  found  it  varied  by  a 
pretty  touch  from  the  French  custom,  and  the  men, 
instead  of  merely  standing  up  while  the  women  filed 
out,  gave  each  his  arm,  as  far  as  the  drawing-room,  to 
the  lady  he  had  brought  in  to  dinner.  Then  we  went 
back,  and  what  is  the  pleasantest  part  of  the  dinner  to 
most  men  began  for  us. 


XVI 

I  MUST  say,  to  the  credit  of  the  Americans,  that 
although  the  eating  and  drinking  among  them  ap- 
pear gross  enongh  to  an  Altrurian,  you  are  not  re- 
volted by  the  coarse  stories  which  the  English  some- 
times tell  as  soon  as  the  ladies  have  left  them.  If  it 
is  a  men's  dinner,  or  more  especially  a  men's  supper, 
these  stories  are  pretty  sure  to  follow  the  coffee;  but 
when  there  have  been  women  at  the  board,  some  sense 
of  their  presence  seems  to  linger  in  the  more  delicate 
American  nerves,  and  the  indulgence  is  limited  to  two 
or  three  things  off  color,  as  the  phrase  is  here,  told 
with  anxious  glances  at  the  drawing-room  doors,  to  see 
if  they  are  fast  shut. 

I  do  not  remember  just  wliat  brought  the  talk  back 
from  these  primrose  paths  to  that  question  of  Amer- 
ican society  forms,  but  presently  some  one  said  he 
believed  the  church  -  sociable  was  the  thing  in  most 
towns  beyond  the  apple-bee  and  sugar-party  stage,  and 
this  opened  the  inquir}^  as  to  how  far  the  church  still 
formed  the  social  life  of  the  people  in  cities.  Some 
one  suggested  that  in  Brooklyn  it  formed  it  altogether, 
and  then  they  laughed,  for  Brooklyn  is  always  a  joke 
with  the  ^ew- Yorkers;  I  do  not  know  exactly  why, 
except  that  this  vast  city  is  so  largely  a  suburb,  and 
that  it  has  a  great  number  of  churches  and  is  com- 
paratively cheap.  Then  another  told  of  a  lady  who 
had  come  to  ISTew  York  (he  admitted,  twenty  years 
ago),  and  was  very  lonely,  as  she  had  no  letters  until 
she  joined  a  church.     This  at  once  brought  her  a  gen- 

69 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

eral  acquaintance,  and  she  began  to  find  herself  in 
society;  but  as  soon  as  she  did  so  she  joined  a  more 
exchisive  church,  where  they  took  no  notice  of  strangers. 
They  all  laughed  at  that  bit  of  human  nature,  as  they 
called  it,  and  they  philosophized  the  relation  of  women 
to  society  as  a  purely  business  relation.  The  talk 
ranged  to  the  mutable  character  of  society,  and  how 
people  got  into  it,  or  were  of  it,  and  how  it  was  very 
different  from  what  it  once  was,  except  that  with 
women  it  was  always  business.  They  spoke  of  cer- 
tain new  rich  people  with  affected  contempt;  but  I 
could  see  that  they  were  each  proud  of  knowing  such 
millionaires  as  they  could  claim  for  acquaintance, 
though  they  pretended  to  make  fun  of  the  number  of 
men  -  servants  you  had  to  run  the  gantlet  of  in  their 
houses  before  you  could  get  to  your  hostess. 

One  of  my  commensals  said  he  had  noticed  that  I 
took  little  or  no  wine,  and,  when  I  said  that  we  sel- 
dom drank  it  in  Altruria,  he  answered  that  he  did  not 
think  I  could  make  that  go  in  America,  if  I  meant  to 
dine  much.  "  Dining,  you  know,  means  overeating," 
he  explained,  "  and  if  you  wish  to  overeat  you  must 
overdrink.  I  venture  to  say  that  you  will  pass  a 
worse  night  than  any  of  us,  Mr.  Homos,  and  that  you 
will  be  sorrier  to-morrow  than  I  shall."  They  were 
all  smoking,  and  I  confess  that  tlieir  tobacco  was  se- 
cretly such  an  affliction  to  me  that  I  was  at  one  moment 
in  doubt  whether  I  should  take  a  cigar  myself  or  ask 
leave  to  join  the  ladies. 

The  gentleman  who  had  talked  so  much  already  said : 
"  Well,  I  don't  mind  dining,  a  great  deal,  especially 
with  Makely,  here,  but  I  do  object  to  supping,  as  I 
have  to  do  now  and  then,  in  the  way  of  pleasure. 
Last  Saturday  night  I  sat  dovm  at  eleven  o'clock  to 
blue-point  oysters,  consomme,  stewed  terrapin — yours 

70 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

was  very  good,  Makely;  I  wish  I  had  taken  more  of 
it — lamb  chops  with  pease,  redhead  duck  with  celery 
mayonnaise,  iN'esselrode  pudding,  fruit,  cheese,  and 
coffee,  with  sausages,  caviare,  radishes,  celery,  and 
olives  interspersed  wildly,  and  drinkables  and  smok- 
ables  ad  libitum;  and  I  can  assure  you  that  I  felt  very 
devout  when  I  woke  up  after  church-time  in  the  morn- 
ing. It  is  this  turning  night  into  day  that  is  killing 
us.  We  men,  who  have  to  go  to  business  the  next 
morning,  ought  to  strike,  and  say  that  we  won't  go 
to  anything  later  than  eight-o'clock  dinner." 

^'  Ah,  then  the  women  would  insist  upon  our  making 
it  four-o'clock  tea,"  said  another. 

Our  host  seemed  to  be  reminded  of  something  by 
the  mention  of  the  women,  and  he  said,  after  a  glance 
at  the  state  of  the  cigars,  "  Shall  we  join  the  ladies  ?" 

One  of  the  men-servants  had  evidently  been  waiting 
for  this  question.  He  held  the  door  open,  and  we  all 
filed  into  the  drawing-room. 

Mrs.  Makely  hailed  me  with,  "  Ah,  Mr.  Homos, 
I'm  so  glad  you've  come !  We  poor  women  have  been 
having  a  most  dismal  time!" 

"  Honestly,"  asked  the  funny  gentleman,  "  don't  you 
always,  without  us  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  this  has  been  worse  than  usual.  Mrs. 
Strange  has  been  asking  us  how  many  people  we  sup- 
posed there  were  in  this  city,  within  five  minutes'  walk 
of  ITS,  who  had  no  dinner  to-day.  Do  you  call  that 
kind  ?" 

"  A  little  more  than  kin  and  loss  than  kind,  per- 
haps," the  gentleman  suggested.  "  But  what  does  she 
propose  to  do  about  it  ?" 

He  turned  towards  ^Irs.  Strange,  who  answered, 
"  IsTothing.  What  does  any  one  propose  to  do  about 
it?" 

71 


Til  ROUGH   THE   EYE    OF   THE   NEEDLE 

"  Then,  why  do  jou  think  about  it  V 

"  I  don't.  It  thinks  about  itself.  Do  you  know 
that  poem  of  Longfellow's,  '  The  Challenge '  ?" 

"  jSTo,  I  never  heard  of  it." 

"  Well,  it  begins  in  his  sweet  old  way,  about  some 
Spanish  king  who  was  killed  before  a  city  he  was  be- 
sieging, and  one  of  his  knights  sallies  out  of  the  camp 
and  challenges  the  people  of  the  city,  tlie  living  and 
the  dead,  as  traitors.  Then  the  poet  breaks  off,  apro- 
pos de  rien: 

"  '  There  is  a  greater  army 

That  besets  lis  round  with  strife, 
A  numberless,  starving  army, 

At  all  the  gates  of  life. 
The  poverty-stricken  millions 

Who  challenge  our  wine  and  bread 
And  impeach  us  all  for  traitors, 

Both  the  living  and  the  dead. 
And  whenever  I  sit  at  the  banquet. 

Where  the  feast  and  song  are  high. 
Amid  the  mirth  and  the  music 

I  can  hear  that  fearful  cry. 

" '  And  hollow  and  haggard  faces 

Look  into  the  lighted  hall, 
And  wasted  hands  are  extended 

To  catch  the  crumbs  that  fall. 
For  within  there  is  light  and  plenty. 

And  odors  fill  the  air; 
But  without  there  is  cold  and  darkness, 

And  hunger  and  despair. 
And  there,  in  the  camp  of  famine. 

In  wind  and  cold  and  rain, 
Christ,  the  great  T^rd  of  the  Army, 

Lies  dead  upon  the  plain.' " 

"  Ah,"  said  the  facetious  gentleman,  "  that  is  fine ! 
We  really  forget  how  fine  Longfellow  was.  It  is  so 
pleasant  to  hear  you  quoting  poetry,  ]\rrs.  Strange! 
That  sort  of  thing  has  almost  gone  out;  and  it's  a 
pity." 

72 


XVII 

Our  fashion  of  offering  hospitality  on  the  impulse 
would  be  as  strange  here  as  offering  it  without  some 
special  inducement  for  its  acceptance.  The  induce- 
ment is,  as  often  as  can  be,  a  celebrity  or  eccentricity 
of  some  sort,  or  some  visiting  foreigner;  and  I  sup- 
pose that  I  have  been  a  good  deal  used  myself  in  one 
quality  or  the  other.  But  when  the  thing  has  been 
done,  fully  and  guardedly  at  all  points,  it  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  done  for  pleasure,  either  by  the 
host  or  the  guest.  The  dinner  is  given  in  payment  of 
another  dinner;  or  out  of  ambition  by  people  who  are 
striving  to  get  forward  in  society;  or  by  great  social 
figures  who  give  regularly  a  certain  number  of  din- 
ners every  season.  In  either  case  it  is  eaten  from 
motives  at  once  impersonal  and  selfish.  I  do  not  mean 
to  say  that  I  have  not  been  at  many  dinners  where  I 
felt  nothing  perfunctory  either  in  host  or  guest,  and 
where  as  sweet  and  gay  a  spirit  ruled  as  at  any  of  our 
own  simple  feasts.  Still,  I  think  our  main  impression 
of  American  hospitality  would  be  that  it  was  thor- 
oughly infused  with  the  plutocratic  principle,  and  that 
it  meant  business. 

I  am  speaking  now  of  the  hospitality  of  society 
people,  who  number,  after  all,  but  a  few  thousands 
out  of  the  many  millions  of  American  people.  These 
millions  are  so  far  from  being  in  society,  even  when 
they  are  very  comfortable,  and  on  the  way  to  great 
prosperity,  if  they  are  not  already  greatly  prosperous, 

73 


TIIROUGK   TnE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

that  if  they  were  suddenly  confronted  with  the  best 
society  of  the  great  Eastern  cities  they  would  find  it 
almost  as  strange  as  so  many  Altrnrians.  A  great  part 
of  them  have  no  conception  of  entertaining  except  upon 
an  Altrurian  scale  of  simplicity,  and  they  know  noth- 
ing and  care  less  for  the  forms  that  society  people 
value  themselves  upon.  When  they  begin,  in  the  ascent 
of  the  social  scale,  to  adopt  forms,  it  is  still  to  wear 
them  lightly  and  with  an  individual  freedom  and  in- 
difference; it  is  long  before  anxiety  concerning  the 
social  law  renders  them,  vulgar. 

Yet  from  highest  to  lowest,  from  first  to  last,  one 
invariable  fact  characterizes  them  all,  and  it  may  be 
laid  down  as  an  axiom  that  in  a  plutocracy  the  man 
who  needs  a  dinner  is  the  man  who  is  never  asked 
to  dine.  I  do  not  say  that  he  is  not  given  a  dinner, 
lie  is  very  often  given  a  dinner,  and  for  the  most 
part  he  is  kept  from  starving  to  death ;  but  he  is  not 
suffered  to  sit  at  meat  with,  his  host,  if  the  person  who 
gives  him  a  meal  can  be  called  his  host.  His  need 
of  the  meal  stamps  him  with  a  hopeless  inferiority, 
and  relegates  him  morally  to  the  company  of  the  swine 
at  their  husks,  and  of  Lazarus,  whose  sores  the  dogs 
licked.  Usually,  of  course,  he  is  not  physically  of 
such  a  presence  as  to  fit  him  for  any  place  in  good 
society  short  of  Abraham's  bosom;  but  even  if  he 
were  entirely  decent,  or  of  an  inoffensive  shabbiness, 
it  would  not  be  possible  for  his  benefactors,  in  any 
grade  of  society,  to  ask  him  to  their  tables.  He  is  some- 
times fed  in  the  kitchen;  where  the  people  of  the 
house  feed  in  the  kitchen  themselves,  he  is  fed  at  the 
back  door. 

We  were  talking  of  this  the  other  night  at  the  house 
of  that  lady  whom  Mrs.  Makely  invited  me  specially 
to  meet  on  Thanksgiving-day.     It  happened  then,  as 

74 


THKOUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

it  often  happens  here,  that  although  I  was  asked  to 
meet  her,  I  saw  very  little  of  her.  It  was  not  so  bad 
as  it  sometimes  is,  for  I  have  been  asked  to  meet  peo- 
ple, very  informally,  and  passed  the  whole  evening 
with  them,  and  yet  not  exchanged  a  word  with  them. 
Mrs.  Makely  really  gave  me  a  seat  next  Mrs.  Strange 
at  table,  and  we  had  some  unimportant  conversation; 
but  there  was  a  lively  little  creature  vis-a-vis  of  me, 
who  had  a  fancy  of  addressing  me  so  much  of  her 
talk  that  my  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Strange  rather 
languished  through  the  dinner,  and  she  went  away 
so  soon  after  the  men  rejoined  the  ladies  in  the  draw- 
ing-room that  I  did  not  speak  to  her  there.  I  was 
rather  surprised,  then,  to  receive  a  note  from  her  a  few 
days  later,  asking  me  to  dinner;  and  I  finally  went, 
I  am  ashamed  to  own,  more  from  curiosity  than  from 
any  other  motive.  I  had  been,  in  the  mean  time,  thor- 
oughly coached  concerning  her  by  j\Irs.  Makely,  whom 
I  told  of  my  invitation,  and  who  said,  quite  frankly, 
that  she  wished  Mrs.  Strange  had  asked  her,  too. 
"  But  Eveleth  Strange  wouldn't  do  that,"  she  ex- 
plained, "  because  it  would  have  the  effect  of  paying 
me  back.  I'm  so  glad,  on  your  account,  that  you're 
going,  for  I  do  want  you  to  know  at  least  one  American 
woman  that  you  can  unreservedly  approve  of;  I  know 
you  don't  begin  to  approve  of  me;  and  I  was  so  vexed 
that  you  really  had  no  chance  to  talk  with  her  that 
night  you  met  her  here;  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  she  ran 
away  early  just  to  provoke  me;  and,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  thought  she  had  taken  a  dislike  to  you.  I  wish 
I  could  tell  you  just  what  sort  of  a  person  she  is,  but 
it  would  be  perfectly  hopeless,  for  you  haven't  got  the 
documents,  and  you  never  could  get  them.  I  used  to 
be  at  school  with  her,  and  even  then  she  wasn't  like 
any  of  the  other  girls.     She  was  always  so  original, 

75 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

and  did  things  from  such  a  high  motive,  that  after- 
wards, when  we  were  all  settled,  I  was  perfectly  thun- 
derstruck at  her  marrying  old  Bellington  Strange,  who 
was  twice  her  age  and  had  nothing  but  his  money; 
lie  was  not  related  to  the  Xew  York  Bellingtons  at 
all,  and  nobody  knows  how  he  got  the  name;  nobody 
ever  heard  of  the  Strangcs.  In  fact,  people  say  that 
he  used  to  be  plain  Peter  B.  Strange  till  he  married 
Eveleth,  and  she  made  him  drop  the  Peter  and  blos- 
som out  in  the  Bellington,  so  that  ho  could  seem  to 
have  a  social  as  Avell  as  a  financial  history.  People 
who  dislike  her  insisted  that  they  were  not  in  the  least 
surprised  at  her  marrying  him ;  that  the  high-motive 
business  was  just  her  pose;  and  that  she  had  jumped 
at  the  chance  of  getting  him.  But  I  always  stuck  up 
for  her — and  I  know  that  she  did  it  for  the  sake  of 
her  family,  who  were  all  as  poor  as  poor,  and  were 
dependent  on  her  after  her  father  went  to  smash  in  his 
business.  She  was  always  as  high  -  strung  and  ro- 
mantic as  she  could  be,  but  I  don't  believe  that  even 
then  she  would  have  taken  Mr.  Strange  if  there  had 
been  anybody  else.  I  don't  suppose  any  one  else  ever 
looked  at  her,  for  the  young  men  are  pretty  sharp  now- 
adays, and  are  not  going  to  marry  girls  without  a  cent, 
when  there  are  so  many  rich  girls,  just  as  charming 
every  way;  you  can't  expect  them  to.  At  any  rate, 
whatever  her  motive  was,  she  had  her  reward,  for 
Mr.  Strange  died  within  a  year  of  their  marriage,  and 
she  got  all  his  money.  There  was  no  attempt  to  break 
the  will,  for  Mr.  Strange  seemed  to  be  literally  of  no 
family;  and  she's  lived  quietly  on  in  the  house  he 
bought  her  ever  since,  except  when  she's  in  Europe, 
and  that's  about  two-thirds  of  the  time.  She  has  her 
mother  with  her,  and  I  suppose  that  her  sisters  and 
her  cousins  and  her  aunts  come  in  for  outdoor  aid. 

76 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

She's  always  helping  somebody.  They  say  that's  her 
pose,  now;  but,  if  it  is,  I  don't  think  it's  a  bad  one; 
and  certainly,  if  she  wanted  to  get  married  again,  there 
would  be  no  trouble,  with  her  three  millions.  I  advise 
you  to  go  to  her  dinner,  by  all  means,  Mr.  Homos. 
It  will  be  something  worth  while,  in  every  way,  and 
perhaps  you'll  convert  her  to  Altrurianism ;  she's  as 
hopeful  a  subject  as  I  know." 


XVIII 

I  WAS  one  of  the  earliest  of  the  guests,  for  I  cannot 
yet  believe  that  people  do  not  want  me  to  come  ex- 
actly when  they  say  they  do.  I  perceived,  however, 
that  one  other  gentleman  had  come  before  me,  and  I 
was  both  surprised  and  delighted  to  find  that  this  was 
my  acquaintance  Mr.  Bullion,  the  Boston  banker.  He 
professed  as  much  pleasure  at  our  meeting  as  I  cer- 
tainly felt;  but  after  a  few  words  he  went  on  talking 
with  Mrs.  Strange,  while  I  was  left  to  her  mother,  an 
elderly  woman  of  quiet  and  even  timid  bearing,  who 
affected  me  at  once  as  born  and  bred  in  a  wholly  dif- 
ferent environment.  In  fact,  every  American  of  the 
former  generation  is  almost  as  strange  to  it  in  tra- 
dition, though  not  in  principle,  as  I  am;  and  I  found 
myself  singularly  at  home  with  this  sweet  lady,  who 
seemed  glad  of  my  interest  in  her.  I  was  taken  from 
her  side  to  be  introduced  to  a  lady,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room,  who  said  she  had  been  promised 
my  acquaintance  by  a  friend  of  hers,  whom  I  had  met 
in  the  mountains — Mr.  Twelvemough;  did  I  remem- 
ber him?  She  gave  a  little  cry  while  still  speaking, 
and  dramatically  stretched  her  hand  towards  a  gentle- 
man who  entered  at  the  moment,  and  whom  I  saw  to 
be  no  other  than  Mr.  Twelvemough  himself.  As  soon 
as  he  had  greeted  our  hostess  he  hastened  up  to  us, 
and,  barely  giving  himself  time  to  press  the  still  out- 
stretched hand  of  my  companion,  shook  mine  warmly, 
and  expressed  the  greatest  joy  at  seeing  me.     He  said 

78 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

that  lie  had  just  got  back  to  town,  in  a  manner,  and 
had  not  known  I  was  here,  till  Mrs.  Strange  had  asked 
him  to  meet  me.  There  were  not  a  great  many  other 
guests,  when  they  all  arrived,  and  we  sat  do^vn,  a  party 
not  much  larger  than  at  Mrs.  Makely's. 

I  found  that  I  was  again  to  take  out  my  hostess,  but 
I  was  put  next  the  lady  with  whom  I  had  been  talk- 
ing; she  had  come  without  her  husband,  who  was,  ap- 
parently, of  a  different  social  taste  from  herself,  and 
had  an  engagement  of  his  own;  there  was  an  artist 
and  his  wife,  whose  looks  I  liked;  some  others  whom 
I  need  not  specify  were  there,  I  fancied,  because  they 
had  heard  of  Altruria  and  were  curious  to  see  me. 
As  Mr.  Twelvemough  sat  quite  at  the  other  end  of 
the  table,  the  lady  on  my  right  could  easily  ask  me 
whether  I  liked  his  books.  She  said,  tentatively,  peo- 
ple liked  them  because  they  felt  sure  when  they  took 
up  one  of  his  novels  they  had  not  got  hold  of  a  tract 
on  political  economy  in  disguise. 

It  was  this  complimentary  close  of  a  remark,  which 
scarcely  began  with  praise,  that  made  itself  heard 
across  the  table,  and  was  echoed  with  a  heartfelt  sigh 
from  the  lips  of  another  lady. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  that  is  what  I  find  such  a  com- 
fort in  Mr.  Twelvemough's  books." 

"  We  were  speaking  of  Mr.  Twelvemough's  books," 
the  first  lady  triumphed,  and  several  began  to  extol 
them  for  being  fiction  pure  and  simple,  and  not  deal- 
ing with  anything  but  loves  of  young  people. 

Mr.  Twelvemough  sat  looking  as  modest  as  he  could 
under  the  praise,  and  one  of  the  ladies  said  that  in  a 
novel  she  had  lately  read  there  was  a  description  of  a 
surgical  operation  that  made  her  feel  as  if  she  had 
been  present  at  a  clinic.  Then  the  author  said  that 
he  had  read  that  passage,  too,  and  found  it  extreme- 
6  ^   Y9 


THKOUGil  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

]y  well  done.  It  was  fascinating,  but  it  was  not 
art. 

The  painter  asked,  Whv  was  it  not  art  ? 

The  author  answered,  Well,  if  such  a  thing  as  that 
was  art,  then  anything  that  a  man  chose  to  do  in  a 
work  of  imagination  was  art. 

"  Precisely,"  said  the  painter — "  art  is  choice." 

"  On  that  ground,"  the  banker  interposed,  "  you 
could  say  that  political  economy  was  a  fit  subject  for 
art,  if  an  artist  chose  to  treat  it." 

"  It  would  have  its  difficulties,"  the  painter  admit- 
ted, "  but  there  are  certain  phases  of  political  economy, 
dramatic  moments,  human  moments,  which  might  be 
very  fitly  treated  in  art.  For  instance,  who  would 
object  to  Mr.  Twelvemough's  describing  an  eviction 
from  an  East  Side  tenement-house  on  a  cold  winter 
night,  with  the  mother  and  her  children  huddled  about 
the  fire  the  father  had  kindled  with  pieces  of  the  house- 
hold furniture  ?" 

"  I  should  object  very  much,  for  one,"  said  the  lady 
who  had  objected  to  the  account  of  the  surgical  oper- 
ation. "  It  would  be  too  creepy.  Art  should  give 
pleasure." 

"  Then  you  think  a  tragedy  is  not  art  ?"  asked  the 
painter. 

"  I  think  that  these  harrowing  subjects  are  brought 
in  altogether  too  much,"  said  the  lady.  "  There  are 
enough  of  them  in  real  life,  without  filling  all  the 
novels  with  them.  It's  terrible  the  number  of  beggars 
you  meet  on  the  street,  this  winter.  Do  you  want  to 
meet  them  in  Mr.  Twelvemough's  novels,  too  ?" 

"  Well,  it  wouldn't  cost  me  any  money  there.  I 
shouldn't  have  to  give." 

"  You  oughtn't  to  give  money  in  real  life,"  said 
the  lady.     "  You  ought  to  give  charity   tickets.     If 

80 


THEOUGII  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

tho  beggars  refuse  tlieiii,  it  shows  tliej  are  impos- 
tors." 

"  It's  some  comfort  to  know  that  the  charities  are 
so  active,"  said  the  elderly  yoimg  lady,  "  even  if  half 
the  letters  one  gets  do  turn  out  to  be  appeals  from 
them." 

"  It's  very  disappointing  to  have  them  do  it,  though," 
said  the  artist,  lightly,  "  I  thought  there  was  a  society 
to  abolish  poverty.  That  doesn't  seem  to  be  so  ac- 
tive as  the  charities  this  winter.  Is  it  possible  they've 
found  it  a  failure  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Bullion,  "  perhaps  they  have  sus- 
pended during  the  hard  times." 

They  tossed  the  ball  back  and  forth  with  a  lightness 
the  Americans  have,  and  I  could  not  have  believed,  if 
I  had  not  known  how  hardened  people  become  to  such 
things  here,  that  they  were  almost  in  the  actual  pres- 
ence of  hunger  and  cold.  It  was  within  five  minutes' 
walk  of  their  warmth  and  surfeit;  and  if  they  had 
lifted  the  window  and  called,  "  Who  goes  there  ?"  the 
houselessness  that  prowls  the  night  could  have  answer- 
ed them  from  the  street  below,  "  Despair !" 

"  I  had  an  amusing  experience,"  Mr.  Twelvemough 
began,  "  when  I  was  doing  a  little  visiting  for  the 
charities  in  our  ward,  the  other  winter." 

"  For  the  sake  of  the  literary  material  ?"  the  artist 
suggested. 

"  Partly  for  the  sake  of  the  literary  material ;  you 
know  we  have  to  look  for  our  own  everywhere.  But 
we  had  a  case  of  an  old  actor's  son,  wlio  had  got  out 
of  all  the  places  he  had  filled,  on  account  of  rheuma- 
tism, and  could  not  go  to  sea,  or  drive  a  truck,  or  even 
wrap  gas-fixtures  in  paper  any  more." 

"  A  checkered  employ,"  the  banker  mused  aloud. 

"  It  was  not  of  a  simultaneous  nature,"  the  novelist 
SI 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

explained.  "  So  he  came  on  the  charities,  and,  as  I 
knew  the  theatrical  profession  a  little,  and  how  gener- 
ous it  was  with  all  related  to  it,  I  said  that  I  would 
undertake  to  look  after  his  case.  You  know  the  theory 
is  that  we  get  work  for  our  patients,  or  clients,  or 
whatever  they  are,  and  I  went  to  a  manager  whom  I 
knew  to  be  a  good  fellow,  and  I  asked  him  for  some 
sort  of  work.  He  said.  Yes,  send  the  man  round,  and 
he  would  give  him  a  job  copying  parts  for  a  new  play 
he  had  written." 

The  novelist  paused,  and  nobody  laughed. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  your  experience  is  instructive, 
rather  than  amusing,"  said  the  banker.  "  It  shows 
that  something  can  be  done,  if  you  try." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Twelvemongh,  "  I  thought  that  was 
the  moral,  myself,  till  the  fellow  came  afterwards  to 
thank  me.  He  said  that  he  considered  himself  very 
lucky,  for  the  manager  had  told  him  that  there  were 
six  other  men  had  wanted  that  job." 

Everybody  laughed  now,  and  I  looked  at  my  host- 
ess in  a  little  bewilderment.  She  murmured,  "  I  sup- 
pose the  joke  is  that  he  had  befriended  one  man  at  the 
expense  of  six  others." 

"  Oh,"  I  returned,  "  is  that  a  joke  ?" 

'No  one  answered,  but  tlie  lady  at  my  right  asked, 
"  How  do  you  manage  with  poverty  in  Altruria  ?" 

I  saw  the  banker  fix  a  laughing  eye  on  me,  but  I 
answered,  "  In  Altruria  we  have  no  poverty." 

"Ah,  I  knew  you  would  say  that!"  he  cried  out. 
"  That's  what  he  always  does,"  he  explained  to  the 
lady.  "  Bring  up  any  one  of  our  little  difficulties,  and 
ask  how  they  get  over  it  in  Altruria,  and  he  says  they 
have  nothing  like  it.     It's  very  simple." 

They  all  began  to  ask  me  questions,  but  with  a 
courteous  incredulity  which  I  could  feel  well  enough, 

82 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

and  some  of  mj  answers  made  them  laugh,  all  but  my 
hostess,  who  received  them  with  a  gravity  that  finally 
prevailed.  But  I  was  not  disposed  to  go  on  talking 
of  Altruria  then,  though  they  all  protested  a  real  in- 
terest, and  murmured  against  the  hardship  of  being 
cut  off  with  so  brief  an  account  of  our  country  as  I  had 
given  them. 

"  Well,"  said  the  banker  at  last,  "  if  there  is  no 
cure  for  our  poverty,  we  might  as  well  go  on  and  enjoy 
ourselves." 

"  Yes,"  said  our  hostess,  with  a  sad  little  smile,  "  we 
might  as  well  enjoy  ourselves." 


XIX 

The  talk  at  Mrs.  Strange's  table  took  a  far  wider 
range  than  my  meagre  notes  would  intimate,  and  we 
sat  so  long  tliat  it  was  almost  eleven  before  the  men 
joined  the  ladies  in  the  drawing-room.  You  will  hard- 
ly conceive  of  remaining  two,  three,  or  four  hours  at 
dinner,  as  one  often  does  here,  in  society;  out  of  so- 
ciety the  meals  are  despatched  Avith  a  rapidity  un- 
known to  the  Altrurians.  Our  habit  of  listening  to 
lectors,  especially  at  the  evening  repast,  and  then  of 
reasoning  upon  what  we  have  heard,  prolongs  our  stay 
at  the  board;  but  the  fondest  listener,  the  greatest 
talker  among  us,  would  be  impatient  of  the  delay  eked 
out  here  by  the  great  number  and  the  slow  procession 
of  the  courses  served.  Yet  the  poorest  American  would 
find  his  ideal  realized  rather  in  the  long-drawn-out 
gluttony  of  the  society  dinner  here  than  in  our  tem- 
perate simplicity. 

At  such  a  dinner  it  is  very  hard  to  avoid  a  surfeit, 
and  I  have  to  guard  myself  very  carefully,  lest,  in  the 
excitement  of  the  talk,  I  gorge  myself  with  ever\i;hing, 
in  its  turn.  Even  at  the  best,  my  overloaded  stomach 
often  joins  with  my  conscience  in  reproaching  me  for 
what  you  would  think  a  shameful  excess  at  table.  Yet, 
wicked  as  my  riot  is,  my  waste  is  worse,  and  I  have  to 
think,  with  contrition,  not  only  of  what  I  have  eaten, 
but  of  what  I  have  left  uneaten,  in  a  city  where  so  many 
wake  and  sleep  in  hunger. 

The  ladies  made  a  show  of  lingering  after  we  joined 

84 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

them  in  the  drawing  -  room ;  but  there  were  furtive 
glances  at  the  clock,  and  presently  her  guests  began 
to  bid  Mrs.  Strange  good-night.  When  I  came  up  and 
offered  her  my  hand,  she  would  not  take  it,  but  mur- 
mured, with  a  kind  of  passion :  "  Don't  go !  I  mean 
it !  Stay,  and  tell  us  about  Altruria — my  mother  and 
me!" 

I  was  by  no  means  loath,  for  I  must  confess  that  all 
I  had  seen  and  heard  of  this  lady  interested  me  in 
her  more  and  more.  I  felt  at  home  with  her,  too,  as 
with  no  other  society  woman  I  have  met;  she  seemed 
to  me  not  only  good,  but  very  sincere,  and  very  good- 
hearted,  in  spite  of  the  world  she  lived  in.  Yet  I  have 
met  so  many  disappointments  here,  of  the  kind  that 
our  civilization  wholly  fails  to  prepare  us  for,  that 
I  should  not  have  been  surprised  to  find  that  Mrs. 
Strange  had  wished  me  to  stay,  not  that  she  might  hear 
me  talk  about  Altruria,  but  that  I  might  hear  her  talk 
about  herself.  You  must  understand  that  the  essential 
vice  of  a  system  which  concentres  a  human  being's 
thoughts  upon  his  o^vn  interests,  from  the  first  moment 
of  responsibility,  colors  and  qualifies  every  motive  with 
egotism.  All  egotists  are  unconscious,  for  otherwise 
they  would  be  intolerable  to  themselves;  but  some  are 
subtler  than  others;  and  as  most  women  have  finer 
natures  than  most  men  everywhere,  and  in  America 
most  women  have  finer  minds  than  most  men,  their 
egotism  usually  takes  the  form  of  pose.  This  is  usual- 
ly obvious,  but  in  some  cases  it  is  so  delicately  man- 
aged that  you  do  not  suspect  it,  unless  some  other 
woman  gives  you  a  hint  of  it,  and  even  then  you  can- 
not be  sure  of  it,  seeing  the  self  -  sacrifice,  almost  to 
martyrdom,  which  the  poseuse  makes  for  it.  If  Mrs. 
Makely  had  not  suggested  that  some  people  attributed 
a  pose  to  Mrs.  Strange,  I  should  certainly  never  have 

85 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

dreamed  of  looking  for  it,  and  I  should  have  1)een 
only  intensely  interested,  when  she  began,  as  soon  as 
I  was  left  alone  with  her  and  her  mother : 

"  You  may  not  know  how  unusual  I  am  in  asking 
this  favor  of  you,  Mr.  Homos;  but  you  might  as  well 
learn  from  me  as  from  others  that  I  am  rather  un- 
usual in  everything.  In  fact,  you  can  report  in  Al- 
truria,  when  you  get  home,  that  you  found  at  least  one 
woman  in  America  whom  fortune  had  smiled  upon 
in  every  way,  and  who  hated  her  smiling  fortune  al- 
most as  much  as  she  hated  herself.  I'm  quite  satis- 
fied," she  went  on,  with  a  sad  mockery,  "  that  fortune 
is  a  man,  and  an  American;  when  he  has  given  you 
all  the  materials  for  having  a  good  time,  he  believes 
that  you  must  be  happy,  because  there  is  nothing  to 
hinder.  It  isn't  that  I  want  to  be  happy  in  the  greedy 
way  that  men  think  we  do,  for  then  I  could  easily  be 
happy.  If  you  have  a  soul  which  is  not  above  buttons, 
buttons  are  enough.  But  if  you  expect  to  be  of  real 
use,  to  help  on,  and  to  help  out,  you  will  be  disap- 
pointed. I  have  not  the  faith  that  they  say  upholds 
you  Altrurians  in  trying  to  help  out,  if  I  don't  see  my 
way  out.  It  seems  to  me  that  my  reason  has  some  right 
to  satisfaction,  and  that,  if  I  am  a  woman  grown,  I 
can't  be  satisfied  with  the  assurances  they  would  give 
to  little  girls — that  everything  is  going  on  well.  Any 
one  can  see  that  things  are  not  going  on  well.  There 
is  more  and  more  wretchedness  of  every  kind,  not  hun- 
ger of  body  alone,  but  hunger  of  soul.  If  you  escape 
one,  you  suffer  the  other,  because,  if  you  have  a  soul, 
you  must  long  to  help,  not  for  a  time,  but  for  all  time. 
I  suppose,"  she  asked,  abruptly,  "that  Mrs.  Makely 
has  told  you  something  about  me  ?" 

"  Something,"  I  admitted. 

"  I  ask,"  she  went  on,  "  because  I  don't  want  to 

86 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

bore  you  with  a  statement  of  my  case,  if  you  know 
it  already.  Ever  since  I  heard  you  were  in  JSTew  York 
I  have  wished  to  see  you,  and  to  talk  with  you  about 
Altruria;  I  did  not  suppose  that  there  would  be  any 
chance  at  Mrs.  Makely's,  and  there  wasn't;  and  I  did 
not  suppose  there  would  be  any  chance  here,  unless  I 
could  take  courage  to  do  what  I  have  done  now.  You 
must  excuse  it,  if  it  seems  as  extraordinary  a  proceed- 
ing to  you  as  it  really  is;  I  wouldn't  at  all  have  you 
think  it  is  usual  for  a  lady  to  ask  one  of  her  guests  to 
stay  after  the  rest,  in  order,  if  you  please,  to  confess 
herself  to  him.     It's  a  crime  without  a  name." 

She  laughed,  not  gayly,  but  humorously,  and  then 
went  on,  speaking  always  with  a  feverish  eagerness 
which  I  find  it  hard  to  give  you  a  sense  of,  for  the 
women  here  have  an  intensity  quite  beyond  our  expe- 
rience of  the  sex  at  home. 

"  But  you  are  a  foreigner,  and  you  come  from  an 
order  of  things  so  utterly  unlike  ours  that  perhaps 
you  will  be  able  to  condone  my  offence.  At  any  rate, 
I  have  risked  it."  She  laughed  again,  more  gayly, 
and  recovered  herself  in  a  cheerfuller  and  easier  mood. 
"  Well,  the  long  and  the  short  of  it  is  that  I  have 
come  to  the  end  of  my  tether.  I  have  tried,  as  truly 
as  I  believe  any  woman  ever  did,  to  do  my  share,  with 
money  and  with  work,  to  help  make  life  better  for 
those  whose  life  is  bad;  and  though  one  mustn't  boast 
of  good  works,  I  may  say  that  I  have  been  pretty 
thorough,  and,  if  I've  given  up,  it's  because  I  see,  in 
our  state  of  things,  no  hope  of  curing  the  evil.  It's 
like  trying  to  soak  up  the  drops  of  a  rainstorm.  You 
do  dry  up  a  drop  here  and  there;  but  the  clouds  are 
full  of  them,  and,  the  first  thing  you  know,  you  stand, 
with  your  blotting-paper  in  your  hand,  in  a  puddle 
over  your  shoe-tops.     There  is  nothing  but  charity,  and 

87 


THROUGH   THE   F.YE    OF   TPIE   XEEDLE 

charity  is  a  failure,  except  for  the  inomeut.  If  you 
think  of  the  misery  around  you,  that  must  remain 
around  you  for  ever  and  ever,  as  long  as  you  live,  you 
have  your  choice — to  go  mad  and  be  put  into  an  asy- 
lum, or  go  mad  and  devote  yourself  to  society." 


XX 


While  Mrs.  Strange  talked  on,  her  mother  listened 
quietlv,  with  a  dim,  submissive  smile  and  her  hands 
placidly  crossed  in  her  lap.     She  now  said: 

"  It  seems  to  be  very  different  now  from  what  it 
was  in  my  time.  There  are  certainly  a  great  many 
becffars,  and  we  used  never  to  have  one.  Children 
grew  up,  and  people  lived  and  died,  in  large  towns, 
without  ever  seeing  one.  I  remember,  when  my  hus- 
band first  took  me  abroad,  how  astonished  we  were  at 
the  beggars,  ^ow  I  meet  as  many  in  ISTcw  York  as 
I  met  in  London  or  in  Kome.  But  if  you  don't  do 
charity,  what  can  you  do?  Christ  enjoined  it,  and 
Paul  says — " 

"  Oh,  people  never  do  the  charity  that  Christ 
meant,"  said  Mrs.  Strange ;  "  and,  as  things  are  now, 
how  could  they?  Who  would  dream  of  dividing  half 
her  frocks  and  wraps  with  poor  women,  or  selling  all 
and  giving  to  the  poor?  That  is  what  makes  it  so 
hopeless.  We  know  that  Christ  was  perfectly  right, 
and  that  He  was  perfectly  sincere  in  what  He  said  to 
the  good  young  millionaire;  but  we  all  go  away  ex- 
ceeding sorrowful,  just  as  the  good  young  millionaire 
did.  We  have  to,  if  we  don't  want  to  come  on  char- 
ity ourselves.  How  do  you  manage  about  that?"  she 
asked  me ;  and  then  she  added,  "  But,  of  course,  I 
forgot  that  you  have  no  need  of  charity." 

"  Oh  yes,  we  have,"  I  returned ;  and  I  tried,  once 
more,  as  I  have  tried  so  often  with  Americans,  to  ex- 

89 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

plain  liow  the  heavenly  need  of  giving  the  self  con- 
tinues with  ns,  but  on  terms  that  do  not  harrow  the 
conscience  of  the  giver,  as  self-sacrifice  always  must 
here,  at  its  purest  and  noblest.  I  sought  to  make  her 
conceive  of  our  nation  as  a  family,  where  erery  one 
was  secured  against  want  by  the  common  provision, 
and  against  the  degrading  and  depraving  inequality 
which  comes  from  want.  The  "  dead-level  of  equal- 
ity "  is  what  the  Americans  call  the  condition  in  which 
all  would  be  as  the  angels  of  God,  and  they  blas- 
phemously deny  that  He  ever  meant  His  creatures  to 
be  alike  happy,  because  some,  through  a  long  succes- 
sion of  unfair  advantages,  have  inherited  more  brain 
or  brawn  or  beauty  than  others.  I  found  that  this 
gross  and  impious  notion  of  God  darkened  even  the 
clear  intelligence  of  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Strange;  and, 
indeed,  it  prevails  here  so  commonly  that  it  is  one  of 
the  first  things  advanced  as  an  argument  against  the 
Altrurianization  of  America. 

I  believe  I  did,  at  last,  succeed  in  showing  her  how 
charity  still  continues  among  us,  but  in  forms  that 
bring  neither  a  sense  of  inferiority  to  him  who  takes 
nor  anxiety  to  him  who  gives.  I  said  that  benevo- 
lence here  often  seemed  to  involve,  essentially,  some 
such  risk  as  a  man  should  run  if  he  parted  with  a 
portion  of  the  vital  air  which  belonged  to  himself  and 
his  family,  in  succoring  a  fellow-being  from  suffoca- 
tion; but  that  with  us,  where  it  was  no  more  possible 
for  one  to  deprive  himself  of  his  share  of  the  common 
food,  shelter,  and  clothing,  than  of  the  air  he  breathed, 
one  could  devote  one's  self  utterly  to  others  without 
that  foul  alloy  of  fear  which  I  thought  must  basely 
qualify  every  good  deed  in  plutocratic  conditions. 

She  said  that  she  knew  what  I  meant,  and  that  I 
was  quite  right  in  my  conjecture,  as  regarded  men,  at 

90 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

least;  a  man  who  did  not  stop  to  think  what  the  ef- 
fect, upon  himself  and  his  own,  his  giving  must  have, 
would  be  a  fool  or  a  madman ;  but  women  could  often 
give  as  recklessly  as  they  spent,  without  any  thought 
of  consequences,  for  they  did  not  know  how  money 
came. 

"  Women,"  I  said,  "  are  exterior  to  your  conditions, 
and  they  can  sacrifice  themselves  without  wronging 
any  one." 

"  Or,  rather,"  she  continued,  "  without  the  sense  of 
wronging  any  one.  Our  men  like  to  keep  us  in  that 
innocence  or  ignorance;  they  think  it  is  pretty,  or 
they  think  it  is  funny;  and  as  long  as  a  girl  is  in  her 
father's  house,  or  a  wife  is  in  her  husband's,  she  knows 
no  more  of  money-earning  or  money-making  than  a 
child.  Most  grown  women  among  us,  if  they  had  a 
sum  of  money  in  the  bank,  would  not  know  how  to  get 
it  out.  They  would  not  know  how  to  indorse  a  check, 
much  less  draw  one.  But  there  are  plenty  of  women 
who  are  inside  the  conditions,  as  much  as  men  are — 
poor  women  who  have  to  earn  their  bread,  and  rich 
women  who  have  to  manage  their  property.  I  can't 
speak  for  the  poor  women;  but  I  can  speak  for  the 
rich,  and  I  can  confess  for  them  that  what  you  imagine 
is  true.  The  taint  of  imfaith  and  distrust  is  on  every 
dollar  that  you  dole  out,  so  that,  as  far  as  the  charity 
of  the  rich  is  concerned,  I  would  read  Shakespeare: 

"  It  curseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes." 

"  Perhaps  that  is  why  the  rich  give  comparatively 
so  little.  The  poor  can  never  understand  how  much 
the  rich  value  their  money,  how  much  the  owner  of  a 
great  fortune  dreads  to  see  it  less.  If  it  were  not  so, 
they  would  surely  give  more  than  they  do;  for  a  man 

91 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

who  lias  ten  millious  could  give  eight  of  them  without 
feeling  the  loss;  the  man  with  a  hundred  could  give 
ninety  and  be  no  nearer  want.  Ah,  it's  a  strange 
mystery!  My  poor  husband  and  I  used  to  talk  of  it 
a  great  deal,  in  the  long  year  that  he  lay  dying;  and 
I  think  I  hate  my  superfluity  the  more  because  I  know 
he  hated  it  so  much." 

A  little  trouble  had  stolen  into  her  impassioned 
tones,  and  there  was  a  gleam,  as  of  tears,  in  the  eyes 
she  dropped  for  a  moment.  They  w^ere  shining  still 
when  she  lifted  them  again  to  mine. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  said,  "  that  Mrs.  Makely  told  you 
something  of  my  marriage  ?" 

"  Eveleth !"  her  mother  protested,  with  a  gentle 
murmur. 

"  Oh,  I  think  I  can  be  frank  with  Mr.  Homos.  He 
is  not  an  American,  and  he  will  understand,  or,  at  least, 
he  will  not  misunderstand.  Besides,  I  dare  say  I  shall 
not  say  anything  worse  than  Mrs.  Makely  has  said 
already.  My  husband  was  much  older  than  I,  and  I 
ought  not  to  have  married  him;  a  young  girl  ought 
never  to  marry  an  old  man,  or  even  a  man  who  is  only 
a  good  many  years  her  senior.  But  we  both  faithfully 
tried  to  make  the  best  of  our  mistake,  not  the  worst, 
and  I  think  this  effort  helped  us  to  respect  each  other, 
when  there  couldn't  be  any  question  of  more.  He  was 
a  rich  man,  and  he  had  made  his  money  out  of  noth- 
ing, or,  at  least,  from  a  beginning  of  utter  poverty. 
But  in  his  last  years  he  came  to  a  sense  of  its  worth- 
lessness,  such  as  few  men  who  have  made  their  money 
ever  have.  He  was  a  common  man,  in  a  great  many 
ways;  he  was  imperfectly  educated,  and  he  was  un- 
grammatical,  and  he  never  was  at  home  in  society; 
but  he  had  a  tender  heart  and  an  honest  nature,  and  I 
revere  his  memory,  as  no  one  would  believe  I  could 

92 


THKOUGll  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

without  knowing  him  as  I  did.  His  money  became  a 
burden  and  a  terror  to  him;  he  did  not  know  what  to 
do  with  it,  and  he  was  always  morbidly  afraid  of  do- 
ing harm  with  it ;  he  got  to  thinking  that  money  was  an 
evil  in  itself." 

"  That  is  what  we  think,"  I  ventured. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  But  he  had  thought  this  out  for 
himself,  and  yet  he  had  times  when  his  thinking  about 
it  seemed  to  him  a  kind  of  craze,  and,  at  any  rate,  he 
distrusted  himself  so  much  that  he  died  leaving  it  all 
to  me.  I  suppose  he  thought  that  perhaps  I  could 
learn  how  to  give  it  without  hurting;  and  then  he 
knew  that,  in  our  state  of  things,  I  must  have  some 
money  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door.  And  I  am 
afraid  to  part  with  it,  too.  I  have  given  and  given; 
but  there  seems  some  evil  spell  on  the  principal  that 
guards  it  from  encroachment,  so  that  it  remains  the 
same,  and,  if  I  do  not  watch,  the  interest  grows  in 
the  bank,  with  that  frightful  life  dead  money  seems 
endowed  with,  as  the  hair  of  dead  people  grows  in 
the  grave." 

"  Eveleth !"  her  mother  murmured  again. 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  answered,  "  I  dare  say  my  words 
are  wild.  I  dare  say  they  only  mean  that  I  loathe  my 
luxury  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul,  and  long  to  be  rid 
of  it,  if  I  only  could,  without  harm  to  others  and  with 
safety  to  myself." 


XXI 

It  seemed  to  inc  that  I  became  suddenly  sensible 
of  this  luxury  for  the  first  time.  I  had  certainly  been 
aware  that  I  was  in  a  large  and  stately  house,  and 
that  I  had  been  served  and  banqueted  with  a  princely 
pride  and  profusion.  But  there  had,  somehow,  been 
through  all  a  sort  of  simplicity,  a  sort  of  quiet,  so 
that  I  had  not  thought  of  the  establishment  and  its 
operation,  even  so  much  as  I  had  thought  of  Mrs. 
Makely's  far  inferior  scale  of  living;  or  else,  what 
with  my  going  about  so  much  in  society,  I  was  ceasing 
to  be  so  keenly  observant  of  the  material  facts  as  I 
had  been  at  first.  But  I  was  better  qualified  to  judge 
of  what  I  saw,  and  I  had  now  a  vivid  sense  of  the 
costliness  of  Mrs.  Strange's  environment.  There  were 
thousands  of  dollars  in  the  carpets  underfoot;  there 
were  tens  of  thousands  in  the  pictures  on  the  walls. 
In  a  bronze  group  that  withdrew  itself  into  a  certain 
niche,  with  a  faint  relucence,  there  was  the  value  of 
a  skilled  artisan's  wage  for  five  years  of  hard  work; 
in  the  bindings  of  the  books  that  showed  from  the  li- 
brary shelves  there  was  almost  as  much  money  as 
most  of  the  authors  had  got  for  w^riting  them.  Every 
fixture,  every  movable,  was  an  artistic  masterpiece;  a 
fortune,  as  fortunes  iTsed  to  be  counted  even  in  this 
land  of  afiluence,  had  been  lavished  in  the  mere  fur- 
nishing of  a  house  which  the  palaces  of  nobles  and 
princes  of  other  times  had  contributed  to  embellish. 

"  My  husband,"  Mrs.  Strange  went  on,  "  bought  this 

94 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OE   THE   NEEDLE 

house  for  me,  and  let  me  furnish  it  after  my  own  fancy. 
After  it  was  all  done  we  neither  of  us  liked  it,  and 
when  he  died  I  felt  as  if  he  had  left  me  in  a  tomb 
here." 

"  Eveleth,"  said  her  mother,  "  you  ought  not  to 
speak  so  before  Mr.  Homos.  He  will  not  know  what 
to  think  of  you,  and  he  will  go  back  to  Altruria  with 
a  very  wrong  idea  of  American  women." 

At  this  protest,  Mrs.  Strange  seemed  to  recover  her- 
self a  little.  "  Yes,"  she  said,  "  you  must  excuse  me. 
I  have  no  right  to  speak  so.  But  one  is  often  much 
franker  with  foreigners  than  wdth  one's  own  kind,  and, 
besides,  there  is  something — I  don't  know  what — that 
will  not  let  me  keep  the  truth  from  you." 

She  gazed  at  me  entreatingly,  and  then,  as  if  some 
strong  emotion  swept  her  from  her  own  hold,  she  broke 
out: 

"  He  thought  he  would  make  some  sort  of  atonement 
to  me,  as  if  I  owed  none  to  him!  His  money  was 
all  he  had  to  do  it  with,  and  he  spent  that  upon  me 
in  every  way  he  could  think  of,  though  he  knew  that 
money  could  not  buy  anything  that  was  really  good, 
and  that,  if  it  bought  anything  beautiful,  it  uglified 
it  with  the  sense  of  cost  to  every  one  who  could  value 
it  in  dollars  and  cents.  He  was  a  good  man,  far  bet- 
ter than  people  ever  imagined,  and  very  simple-hearted 
and  honest,  like  a  child,  in  his  contrition  for  his  wealth, 
which  he  did  not  dare  to  get  rid  of;  and  though  I 
know  that,  if  he  were  to  come  back,  it  would  be  just  as 
it  was,  his  memory  is  as  dear  to  me  as  if — " 

She  stopped,  and  pressed  in  her  lip  with  her  teeth, 
to  stay  its  tremor.  I  was  painfully  affected.  I  knew 
that  she  had  never  meant  to  be  so  open  with  me,  and 
was  shocked  and  frightened  at  herself.  I  was  sorry 
for  her,  and  yet  I  was  glad,  for  it  seemed  to  me  that 
'  '  95 


THKOUGII   THE  EYE   OF   THE   isEEDLE 

ylic  bad  given  me  a  glimpse,  not  only  of  the  truth  in 
her  own  heart,  but  of  the  truth  in  the  hearts  of  a  whole 
order  of  prosperous  people  in  these  lamentable  con- 
ditions, whom  I  shall  hereafter  be  able  to  judge  more 
leniently,  more  justly. 

I  began  to  speak  of  x\ltruria,  as  if  that  were  Avhat 
our  talk  had  been  leading  up  to,  and  she  showed  her- 
self more  intelligently  interested  concerning  us  than 
any  one  I  have  yet  seen  in  this  country.  We  appeared, 
I  found,  neither  incredible  nor  preposterous  to  her; 
our  life,  in  her  eyes,  had  that  beauty  of  right  living 
which  the  Americans  so  feebly  imagine  or  imagine  not 
at  all.  She  asked  what  route  I  had  come  by  to  Amer- 
ica, and  she  seemed  disappointed  and  aggrieved  that 
we  placed  the  restrictions  we  have  felt  necessary  upon 
visitors  from  the  plutocratic  world.  Were  we  afraid, 
she  asked,  that  they  w^ould  corrupt  our  citizens  or  mar 
our  content  with  our  institutions  ?  She  seemed  scarce- 
ly satisfied  when  I  explained,  as  I  have  explained  so 
often  here,  that  the  measures  we  had  taken  were  rather 
in  the  interest  of  the  plutocratic  world  than  of  the 
Altrurians;  and  alleged  the  fact  that  no  visitor  from 
the  outside  had  ever  been  willing  to  go  home  again, 
as  sufficient  proof  that  we  had  nothing  to  fear  from 
the  spread  of  plutocratic  ideals  among  us.  I  assured 
her,  and  this  she  easily  imagined,  that,  the  better  known 
these  became,  the  worse  they  appeared  to  us ;  and  that 
the  only  concern  our  priors  felt,  in  regard  to  them, 
was  that  our  youth  could  not  conceive  of  them  in  their 
enormity,  but,  in  seeing  how  estimable  plutocratic 
people  often  were,  they  would  attribute  to  their  con- 
ditions the  inherent  good  of  human  nature.  I  said  our 
own  life  was  so  directly  reasoned  from  its  economic 
premises  that  they  could  hardly  believe  the  plutocratic 
life  was  often  an  absolute  non  scquitur  of  the  pluto- 

96 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

cratic  premises.  I  confessed  that  this  error  was  at  the 
bottom  of  my  own  wish  to  visit  America  and  study 
those  premises. 

"  And  what  has  your  conclusion  been  ?"  she  said, 
leaning  eagerly  towards  me,  across  the  table  between 
us,  laden  with  the  maps  and  charts  we  had  been  ex- 
amining for  the  verification  of  the  position  of  Altruria, 
and  my  own  course  here,  by  way  of  England. 

A  slight  sigh  escaped  Mrs.  Gray,  which  I  inter- 
preted as  an  expression  of  fatigue;  it  was  already 
past  twelve  o'clock,  and  I  made  it  the  pretext  for  es- 
cape. 

"  You  have  seen  the  meaning  and  purport  of  Altru- 
ria so  clearly,"  I  said,  ''  that  I  think  I  can  safely  leave 
you  to  guess  the  answer  to  that  question." 

She  laughed,  and  did  not  try  to  detain  me  now 
when  I  offered  my  hand  for  good-night.  I  fancied 
her  mother  took  leave  of  me  coldly,  and  with  a  certain 
effect  of  inculpation. 


XXII 

It  is  long  since  I  wrote  you,  and  you  have  had  rea- 
son enough  to  be  impatient  of  my  silence.  I  submit 
to  the  reproaches  of  your  letter,  with  a  due  sense  of 
my  blame;  whether  I  am  altogether  to  blame,  you 
shall  say  after  you  have  read  this. 

I  cannot  yet  decide  whether  I  have  lost  a  great 
happiness,  the  greatest  that  could  come  to  any  man, 
or  escaped  the  worst  misfortune  that  could  befall  me. 
But,  such  as  it  is,  I  will  try  to  set  the  fact  honestly 
down. 

I  do  not  know  whether  you  had  any  conjecture, 
from  my  repeated  mention  of  a  lady  whose  character 
greatly  interested  me,  that  I  was  in  the  way  of  feeling 
any  other  interest  in  her  than  my  letters  expressed. 
I  am  no  longer  young,  though  at  thirty-five  an  Altru- 
rian  is  by  no  means  so  old  as  an  American  at  the  same 
age.  The  romantic  ideals  of  the  American  women 
which  I  had  formed  from  the  American  novels  had 
been  dissipated ;  if  I  had  any  sentiment  towards  them, 
as  a  type,  it  was  one  of  distrust,  which  my  very  sense 
of  the  charm  in  their  inconsequence,  their  beauty,  their 
brilliancy,  served  rather  to  intensify.  I  thought  my- 
self doubly  defended  by  that  difference  between  their 
civilization  and  ours  which  forbade  reasonable  hope 
of  happiness  in  any  sentiment  for  them  tenderer  than 
that  of  the  student  of  strange  effects  in  human  nature. 
But  we  have  not  yet,  my  dear  Cyril,  reasoned  the  pas- 
sions, even  in  Altruria. 

98 


THEOUGII  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

After  I  last  wrote  you,  a  series  of  accidents,  or  what 
appeared  so,  threw  me  more  and  more  constantly  into 
the  society  of  Mrs.  Strange.  We  began  to  laugh  at  the 
fatality  with  which  we  met  everywhere  —  at  teas,  at 
lunches,  at  dinners,  at  evening  receptions,  and  even 
at  balls,  where  I  have  been  a  great  deal,  because,  with 
all  my  thirty-five  years,  I  have  not  yet  outlived  that 
fondness  for  dancing  which  has  so  often  amused  you 
in  me.  Wherever  my  acquaintance  widened  among 
cultivated  people,  they  had  no  inspiration  but  to  ask 
us  to  meet  each  other,  as  if  there  were  really  no  other 
woman  in  l^ew  York  who  could  be  expected  to  un- 
derstand me.  "  You  must  come  to  lunch  (or  tea,  or 
dinner,  whichever  it  might  be),  and  we  will  have  her. 
She  will  be  so  much  interested  to  meet  you." 

But  perhaps  we  should  have  needed  none  of  these 
accidents  to  bring  us  together.  I,  at  least,  can  look 
back  and  see  that,  when  none  of  them  happened,  I 
soiTght  occasions  for  seeing  her,  and  made  excuses  of 
our  common  interest  in  this  matter  and  in  that  to  go 
to  her.  'As  for  her,  I  can  only  say  that  I  seldom  failed 
to  find  her  at  home,  whether  I  called  upon  her  nominal 
day  or  not,  and  more  than  once  the  man  who  let  me  in 
said  he  had  been  charged  by  Mrs.  Strange  to  say  that, 
if  I  called,  she  was  to  be  back  very  soon;  or  else  he 
made  free  to  suggest  that,  though  Mrs.  Strange  was 
not  at  home,  Mrs.  Gray  was ;  and  then  I  found  it  easy 
to  stay  until  Mrs.  Strange  returned.  The  good  old 
lady  had  an  insatiable  curiosity  about  Altruria,  and, 
though  I  do  not  think  she  ever  quite  believed  in  our 
reality,  she  at  least  always  treated  me  kindly,  as  if  I 
were  the  victim  of  an  illusion  that  was  thoroughly 
benign. 

I  think  she  had  some  notion  that  your  letters,  which 
I  used  often  to  take  with  me  and  read  to  Mrs.  Strange 

99 


TimOUUH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

and  herself,  were  inventions  of  mine ;  and  the  fact  that 
they  bore  only  an  English  postmark  confirmed  her  in 
this  notion,  though  I  explained  that  in  our  present  pas- 
sive attitude  towards  the  world  outside  we  had  as  yet 
no  postal  relations  with  other  countries,  and,  as  all  our 
conmiunication  at  home  was  by  electricity,  that  wc  had 
no  letter-post  of  our  own.  The  very  fact  that  she  be- 
longed to  a  purer  and  better  age  in  America  disquali- 
fied her  to  conceive  of  Altruria ;  her  daughter,  who  had 
lived  into  a  full  recognition  of  the  terrible  anarchy  in 
which  the  conditions  have  ultimated  here,  could  far 
more  vitally  imagine  us,  and  to  her,  I  believe,  we  were 
at  once  a  living  reality.  Her  perception,  her  sym- 
pathy, her  intelligence,  became  more  and  more  to  me, 
and  I  escaped  to  them  oftener  and  oftener,  from  a 
world  where  an  Altrurian  must  be  so  painfully  at  odds. 
In  all  companies  here  I  am  aware  that  I  have  been  re- 
garded either  as  a  good  joke  or  a  bad  joke,  according 
to  the  humor  of  the  listener,  and  it  was  grateful  to  be 
taken  seriously. 

From  the  first  I  w^as  sensible  of  a  charm  in  her, 
different  from  that  I  felt  in  other  American  women, 
and  impossible  in  our  Altrurian  women.  She  had  a 
deep  and  almost  tragical  seriousness,  masked  with  a 
most  winning  gayety,  a  light  irony,  a  fine  scorn  that 
was  rather  for  herself  than  for  others.  She  had 
thought  herself  out  of  all  s^onpathy  with  her  envi- 
ronment ;  she  knew  its  falsehood,  its  vacuity,  its  hope- 
lessness; but  she  necessarily  remained  in  it  and  of  it. 
She  was  as  much  at  odds  in  it  as  I  was,  without  my 
poor  privilege  of  criticism  and  protest,  for,  as  she 
said,  she  could  not  set  herself  up  as  a  censor  of  things 
that  she  must  keep  on  doing  as  other  people  did.  She 
could  have  renoimced  the  world,  as  there  arc  ways  and 
means  of  doing  here;  but  she  had  no  vocation  to  the 

100 


THROUGH   THE   EYE    OF   THE   NEEDLE 

religious  life,  and  she  cuuld  not  feign  it  without  a  sense 
of  sacrilege.  In  fact,  this  generous  and  magnanimous 
and  gifted  woman  w&s  without  that  faith,  that  trust  in 
God  which  comes  to  us  iro'^\  living  His  law,  and 
which  I  wonder  any  American  can  keep.  She  denied 
nothing;  but  she  had  lost  the  strength  to  afiirm  any- 
thing. She  no  longer  tried  to  do  good  from  her  heart, 
though  she  kept  on  doing  charity  in  what  she  said  was 
a  mere  mechanical  impulse  from  the  helief  of  other 
days,  but  always  with  the  ironical  doubt  that  she  was 
doing  harm.  AVomen  are  nothing  by  halves,  as  men 
can  be,  and  she  was  in  a  despair  which,  no  man  can 
realize,  for  we  have  always  some  if  or  and  which  a 
woman  of  the  like  mood  casts  from  her  in  wild  re- 
jection. Where  she  could  not  clearly  see  her  w^ay  to 
a  true  life,  it  was  the  same  to  her  as  an  impenetrable 
darkness. 

You  will  have  inferred  something  of  all  this  from 
what  I  have  written  of  her  before,  and  from  words  of 
hers  that  I  have  reported  to  you.  Do  you  think  it  so 
wonderful,  then,  that  in  the  joy  I  felt  at  the  hope,  the 
solace,  w^hich  my  story  of  our  life  seemed  to  give  her, 
she  should  become  more  and  more  precious  to  me  ? 
It  was  not  wonderful,  either,  I  think,  that  she  should 
identify  me  with  that  hope,  that  solace,  and  should 
suffer  herself  to  lean  upon  me,  in  a  reliance  infinitely 
sweet  and  endearing.  But  what  a  fantastic  dream  it 
now  appears! 


XXIII 

I  CAiT  Hardly  tell  you  just  how  we  came  to  own 
our  love  to  each  other;  but  one  day  I  found  my- 
self alone  with  her  mother,  with  the  sense  that 
Eveleth  had  suddenly  withdrawn  from  the  room  at 
the  knowledge  of  my  approach.  Mrs.  Gray  was 
strongly  moved  by  something;  but  she  governed  her- 
self, and,  after  giving  me  a  tremulous  hand,  bade 
me  sit. 

"  Will  you  excuse  me,  Mr.  Homos,"  she  began,  "  if 
I  ask  you  whether  you  intend  to  make  America  your 
home  after  this  ?" 

"  Oh  no !"  I  answered,  and  I  tried  to  keep  out  of 
my  voice  the  despair  with  which  the  notion  filled  me. 
I  have  sometimes  had  nightmares  here,  in  which  I 
thought  that  I  was  an  American  by  choice,  and  I  can 
give  you  no  conception  of  the  rapture  of  awakening  to 
the  fact  that  I  could  still  go  back  to  Altruria,  that  I 
had  not  cast  my  lot  with  tliis  wretched  people.  "  How 
could  I  do  that  ?"  I  faltered ;  and  I  was  glad  to  per- 
ceive that  I  had  imparted  to  her  no  hint  of  the  misery 
which  I  had  felt  at  such  a  notion. 

"  I  mean,  by  getting  naturalized,  and  becoming  a 
citizen,  and  taking  up  your  residence  among  us." 

"  ISTo,"  I  answered,  as  quietly  as  I  could,  "  I  had  not 
thought  of  that." 

"  And  you  still  intend  to  go  back  to  Altruria  ?" 

"  I  hope  so ;  I  ought  to  have  gone  back  long  ago, 
and  if  I  had  not  met  the  friends  I  have  in  this  house — " 

102 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  XEEDLE 

I  stopped,  for  I  did  not  know  liow  I  should  end  what 
I  had  begun  to  say. 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  we  are  your  friends,"  said 
the  lady,  "  for  we  have  tried  to  show  ourselves  your 
friends.  I  feel  as  if  this  had  given  me  the  right  to 
say  something  to  you  that  you  may  think  very  odd." 

"  Say  anything  to  me,  my  dear  lady,"  I  returned, 
"  I  shall  not  think  it  unkind,  no  matter  how  odd  it  is." 

"  Oh,  it's  nothing.  It's  merely  that — that  when  you 
are  not  here  with  us  I  lose  my  grasp  on  Altruria,  and 
— and  I  begin  to  doubt — " 

I  smiled.  "  I  know !  People  here  have  often  hinted 
something  of  that  kind  to  me.  Tell  me,  Mrs.  Gray, 
do  Americans  generally  take  me  for  an  impostor  ?" 

"  Oh  no  !"  she  answered,  fervently.  "  Everybody 
that  I  have  heard  speak  of  you  has  the  highest  regard 
for  you,  and  believes  you  perfectly  sincere.     But — " 

"  But  what  ?"  I  entreated. 

"  They  think  you  may  be  mistaken." 

"  Then  they  think  I  am  out  of  my  wits — that  I  am 
in  an  hallucination !" 

"  'No,  not  that,"  she  returned.  "  But  it  is  so  very 
difficult  for  us  to  conceive  of  a  whole  nation  living,  as 
you  say  you  do,  on  the  same  terms  as  one  family,  and 
no  one  trying  to  get  ahead  of  another,  or  richer,  and 
having  neither  inferiors  nor  superiors,  but  just  one 
dead  level  of  equality,  where  there  is  no  distinction 
except  by  natural  gifts  and  good  deeds  or  beautiful 
works.     It  seems  impossible — it  seems  ridiculous." 

"  Yes,"  I  confessed,  "  I  know  that  it  seems  so  to  the 
Americans." 

"  And  I  must  tell  you  something  else,  Mr.  Homos, 
and  I  hope  you  won't  take  it  amiss.  The  first  night 
when  you  talked  about  Altruria  here,  and  showed  us 
how  you  had  come,  by  way  of  England,  and  the  place 

:o3 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

wlicro  Altruriii  oiii^lit  to  Le  on  our  maps,  I  looked 
them  over,  after  you  were  gone,  and  I  could  make 
nothing  of  it.  I  have  often  looked  at  the  map  since, 
but  I  could  never  find  Altruria ;  it  was  no  use." 

"  Why,"  I  said,  "  if  you  will  let  me  have  your 
atlas — " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  It  would  be  the  same  again 
as  soon  as  you  went  away."  I  could  not  conceal  my 
distress,  and  she  went  on :  "  JSTow,  you  mustn't  mind 
what  I  say.  I'm  nothing  but  a  silly  old  woman,  and 
Eveleth  would  never  forgive  me  if  she  could  know 
what  I've  been  saying." 

"  Then  Mrs.  Strange  isn't  troubled,  as  you  are,  con- 
cerning me?"  I  asked,  and  I  confess  my  anxiety  at- 
tenuated my  voice  almost  to  a  whisper. 

"  She  won't  admit  that  she  is.  It  might  be  better 
for  her  if  she  would.  But  Eveleth  is  very  true  to  her 
friends,  and  that — that  makes  me  all  the  more  anxious 
that  she  should  not  deceive  herself." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Gray !"  I  could  not  keej)  a  certain  tone 
of  reproach  out  of  my  words. 

She  began  to  weep.  "  There !  I  knew  I  should 
hurt  your  feelings.  But  yon  mustn't  mind  what  I 
say.    I  beg  your  pardon !    I  take  it  all  back — " 

"  Ah,  I  don't  want  you  to  take  it  back !  But  what 
proof  shall  I  give  you  that  there  is  such  a  land  as 
Altruria  ?  If  the  darkness  implies  the  day,  America 
must  imply  Altruria.  In  what  way  do  I  seem  false, 
or  mad,  except  that  I  claim  to  be  the  citizen  of  a  coun- 
try where  people  love  one  another  as  the  first  Chris- 
tians did  ?" 

"  That  is  just  it,"  she  returned.  "  ISTobody  can  im- 
agine the  first  Christians,  and  do  you  think  we  can 
imagine  anything  like  them  in  our  own  day  V 

"  But  Mrs.  Strange — she  imagines  us,  you  say  ?" 
104 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

"She  thinks  she  does;  but  I  am  afraid  she  onlj 
thinks  so,  and  I  know  her  better  than  you  do,  Mr. 
Homos.  I  know  how  enthusiastic  she  always  was,  and 
how  unhappy  she  has  been  since  she  has  lost  her  hold 
on  faith,  and  how  eagerly  she  has  caught  at  the  hope 
you  have  given  her  of  a  higher  life  on  earth  than  we 
live  here.  If  she  should  ever  find  out  that  she  was 
wrong,  I  don't  know  what  would  become  of  her.  You 
mustn't  mind  me;  you  mustn't  let  me  wound  you  by 
what  I  say." 

"  You  don't  wound  me,  and  I  only  thank  you  for 
what  you  say;  but  I  entreat  you  to  believe  in  me.  Mrs. 
Strange  has  not  deceived  herself,  and  I  have  not  de- 
ceived her.  Shall  I  protest  to  you,  by  all  I  hold  sacred, 
that  I  am  really  what  I  told  you  I  was ;  that  I  am  not 
less,  and  that  Altruria  is  infinitely  more,  happier,  bet- 
ter, gladder,  than  any  words  of  mine  can  say  ?  Shall 
I  not  have  the  happiness  to  see  your  daughter  to-day  ? 
I  had  something  to  say  to  her — and  now  I  have  so 
much  more!  If  she  is  in  the  house,  won't  you  send 
to  her  ?    I  can  make  her  understand — " 

I  stopped  at  a  certain  expression  which  I  fancied  I 
saw  in  Mrs.  Gray's  face. 

"  Mr.  Homos,"  she  began,  so  very  seriously  that  my 
heart  trembled  with  a  vague  misgiving,  "sometimes 
I  think  you  had  better  not  see  my  daughter  any  more." 
"  JNTot  see  her  any  more  ?"  I  gasped. 
"Yes;  I  don't  see  what  good  can  come  of  it,  and 
it's  all  very  strange  and  uncanny.  I  don't  know  how 
to  explain  it;  but,  indeed,  it  isn't  an^i^hing  personal. 
It's  because  you  are  of  a  state  of  things  so  utterly 
opposed  to  human  nature  that  I  don't  see  how — I  am 
afraid  that — " 

"  Eut  I  am  not  uncanny  to  Aer/"  I  entreated.     "  I 
am  not  unnatural,  not  incredible — " 

105 


THKOUGH   THE   EYE    OF   THE   NEEDLE 

"  Oh  no ;  that  is  the  worst  of  it.  But  I  have  said 
too  much ;  I  have  said  a  great  deal  more  than  I  ought. 
But  3^ou  must  excuse  it:  I  am  an  old  woman.  I  am 
not  very  well,  and  I  suppose  it's  that  that  makes  me 
talk  so  much." 

She  rose  from  her  chair,  and  I,  perforce,  rose  from 
mine  and  made  a  movement  towards  her. 

"  'No,  no,"  she  said,  "  I  don't  need  any  help.  You 
must  come  again  soon  and  see  us,  and  show  that  you've 
forgotten  what  I've  said."  She  gave  me  her  hand, 
and  I  could  not  help  bending  over  it  and  kissing  it. 
She  gave  a  little,  pathetic  whimper.  "  Oh,  I  know 
I've  said  the  most  dreadful  things  to  you." 

"  You  haven't  said  anything  that  takes  your  friend- 
ship from  me,  Mrs.  Gray,  and  that  is  what  I  care  for." 
My  own  eyes  filled  with  tears — I  do  not  know  why — 
and  I  groped  my  way  from  the  room.  Without  see- 
ing any  one  in  the  obscurity  of  the  hallway,  where  I 
found  myself,  I  was  aware  of  some  one  there,  by  that 
sort  of  fine  perception  which  makes  us  know  the  pres- 
ence of  a  spirit. 

"  You  are  going  ?"  a  whisper  said.  "  Why  are  you 
going?"  And  Eveleth  had  me  by  the  hand  and  was 
drawing  me  gently  into  the  dim  drawing-room  that 
opened  from  the  place.  "  I  don't  know  all  my  mother 
has  been  saying  to  you.  I  had  to  let  her  say  some- 
thing; she  thought  she  ought.  I  knew  you  would 
know  how  to  excuse  it." 

"  Oh,  my  dearest !"  I  said,  and  why  I  said  this  I 
do  not  know,  or  how  we  found  ourselves  in  each  other's 
arms. 

"  What  are  we  doing  ?"  she  murmured. 

"  You  don't  believe  I  am  an  impostor,  an  illusion, 
a  visionary?"  I  besought  her,  straining  her  closer  to 
my  heart. 

106 


THKOUGH  THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

"  I  believe  in  you,  with  all  my  soul !"  she  answered. 

We  sat  doAvn,  side  by  side,  and  talked  long.  I  did 
not  go  away  the  whole  day.  "With  a  high  disdain  of 
convention,  she  made  me  stay.  Her  mother  sent  word 
that  she  would  not  be  able  to  come  to  dinner,  and  we 
were  alone  together  at  table,  in  an  image  of  what  our 
united  lives  might  be.  We  spent  the  evening  in  that 
happy  interchange  of  trivial  confidences  that  lovers  use 
in  symbol  of  the  unutterable  raptures  that  fill  them. 
We  were  there  in  what  seemed  an  infinite  present, 
without  a  past,  without  a  future. 


XXIV 

Society  had  to  be  taken  into  our  confidence,  and 
Mrs.  Makely  saw  to  it  that  there  were  no  reserves  with 
society.  Our  engagement  was  not  quite  like  that  of 
two  young  persons,  but  people  found  in  our  character 
and  circumstance  an  interest  far  transcending  that  felt 
in  the  engagement  of  the  most  romantic  lovers.  Some 
note  of  the  fact  came  to  us  by  accident,  as  one  evening 
w^hen  we  stood  near  a  couple  and  heard  them  talking. 
"  It  must  be  very  weird,"  the  man  said ;  "  something 
like  being  engaged  to  a  materialization."  "  Yes,"  said 
the  girl,  "  quite  the  Demon  Lover  business,  I  should 
think."  She  glanced  round,  as  people  do,  in  talking, 
and,  at  sight  of  us,  she  involuntarily  put  her  hand 
over  her  mouth.  I  looked  at  Eveleth;  there  was  noth- 
ing expressed  in  her  face  but  a  generous  anxiety  for 
me.  But  so  far  as  the  open  att^'tude  of  society  towards 
us  was  concerned,  nothing  could  have  been  more  flat- 
tering. We  could  hardly  have  been  more  asked  to 
meet  each  other  than  before;  but  now  there  were  en- 
tertainments in  special  recognition  of  our  betrothal, 
which  Eveleth  said  could  not  be  altogether  refused, 
though  she  found  the  ordeal  as  irksome  as  I  did.  In 
America,  however,  you  get  used  to  many  things.  I 
do  not  know  why  it  should  have  been  done,  but  in  the 
society  columns  of  several  of  the  great  newspapers  our 
likenesses  were  printed,  from  photographs  procured 
I  cannot  guess  how,  with  descriptions  of  our  persons  as 
to  those  points  of  coloring  and  carriage  and  stature 

108 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

which  the  pictures  could  not  give,  and  with  biographies 
such  as  could  be  ascertained  in  her  case  and  imagined 
in  mine.  In  some  of  the  society  papers,  paragraphs 
of  a  surprising  scurrility  appeared,  attacking  me  as  an 
impostor,  and  aspersing  the  motives  of  Eveleth  in  her 
former  marriage,  and  treating  her  as  a  foolish  crank 
or  an  audacious  flirt.  The  goodness  of  her  life,  her 
self-sacrifice  and  works  of  benevolence,  counted  for  no 
more  against  these  wanton  attacks  than  the  absolute 
inoffensiveness  of  my  own;  the  writers  knew  no  harm 
of  her,  and  they  knew  nothing  at  all  of  me;  but  they 
devoted  us  to  the  execration  of  their  readers  simply 
because  we  formed  apt  and  ready  themes  for  para- 
graphs. You  may  judge  of  how  wild  they  were  in 
their  aim  when  some  of  them  denounced  me  as  an  Al- 
trurian  plutocrat ! 

We  could  not  escape  this  storm  of  notoriety ;  we  had 
simply  to  let  it  spend  its  fury.  When  it  began,  several 
reporters  of  both  sexes  came  to  interview  me,  and  ques- 
tioned me,  not  only  as  to  all  the  facts  of  my  past  life, 
and  all  my  purposes  in  the  future,  but  as  to  my  opinion 
of  hypnotism,  eternal  punishment,  the  Ibsen  drama, 
and  the  tariff  reform.  I  did  my  best  to  answer  them 
seriously,  and  certainly  I  answered  them  civilly;  but 
it  seemed  from  what  they  printed  that  the  answers  I 
gave  did  not  concern  them,  for  they  gave  others  for  me. 
They  appeared  to  me  for  the  most  part  kindly  and 
well-meaning  young  people,  though  vastly  ignorant  of 
vital  things.  They  had  apparently  visited  me  with 
minds  made  up,  or  else  their  reports  were  revised  by 
some  controlling  hand,  and  a  quality  injected  more  in 
the  taste  of  the  special  journals  they  represented  than 
in  keeping  with  the  facts.  When  I  realized  this,  I 
refused  to  see  any  more  reporters,  or  to  answer  them, 
and  then  they  printed  the  questions  they  had  prepared 

109 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

to  ask  me,  in  such  form  that  my  silence  was  made  of 
the  same  damaging  effect  as  a  full  confession  of  guilt 
upon  the  charges. 

The  experience  was  so  strange  and  new  to  me  that 
it  affected  me  in  a  degree  I  was  unwilling  to  let  Eve- 
leth  imagine.  But  she  divined  my  distress,  and,  when 
she  divined  that  it  was  chiefly  for  her,  she  set  herself 
to  console  and  reassure  me.  She  told  me  that  this 
was  something  every  one  here  expected,  in  coming 
willingly  or  unwillingly  before  the  public;  and  that 
I  must  not  think  of  it  at  all,  for  certainly  no  one  else 
would  think  twice  of  it.  This,  I  found,  was  really  so, 
for  when  I  ventured  to  refer  tentatively  to  some  of 
these  publications,  I  found  that  people,  if  they  had 
read  them,  had  altogether  forgotten  them;  and  that 
they  were,  with  all  the  glare  of  print,  of  far  less  effect 
with  our  acquaintance  than  something  said  under  the 
breath  in  a  corner.  I  found  that  some  of  our  friends 
had  not  kno^vn  the  effigies  for  ours  which  they  had 
seen  in  the  papers;  others  made  a  joke  of  the  whole 
affair,  as  the  Americans  do  with  so  many  affairs,  and 
said  that  they  supposed  the  pictures  were  those  of 
people  who  had  been  cured  by  some  patent  medicine, 
they  looked  so  strong  and  handsome.  This,  I  think, 
was  a  piece  of  Mr.  Makely's  humor  in  the  beginning; 
but  it  had  a  general  vogue  long  after  the  interviews 
and  the  illustrations  were  forgotten. 


XXV 

I  LINGER  a  little  upon  these  trivial  matters  because 
I  shrink  from  what  must  follow.  They  were  scarcely 
blots  upon  our  happiness;  rather  they  were  motes  in 
the  sunshine  which  had  no  other  cloud.  It  is  true  that 
I  was  always  somewhat  puzzled  by  a  certain  manner 
in  Mrs.  Gray,  which  certainly  was  from  no  unfriend- 
liness for  me;  she  could  not  have  been  more  affection- 
ate to  me,  after  our  engagement,  if  I  had  been  really 
her  own.  son;  and  it  was  not  until  after  our  common 
kindness  had  confirmed  itself  upon  the  new  footing 
that  I  felt  this  perplexing  qualification  on  it.  I  felt 
it  first  one  day  when  I  found  her  alone,  and  I  talked 
long  and  freely  to  her  of  Eveleth,  and  opened  to  her 
my  whole  heart  of  joy  in  our  love.  At  one  point  she 
casually  asked  me  how  soon  we  should  expect  to  return 
from  Altruria  after  our  visit;  and  at  first  I  did  not 
understand. 

"  Of  course,"  she  explained,  "  you  will  want  to  see 
all  your  old  friends,  and  so  will  Eveleth,  for  they  will 
be  her  friends,  too;  but  if  you  want  me  to  go  with 
you,  as  you  say,  you  must  let  me  know  when  I  shall 
see  ITew  York  again." 

"  Why,"  I  said,  "  you  will  always  be  with  us." 

"  Well,  then,"  she  pursued,  with  a  smile,  "  when 
shall  you  come  back  ?" 

"  Oh,  never !"  I  answered.  "  'No  one  ever  leaves 
Altruria,  if  he  can  help  it,  unless  he  is  sent  on  a 
mission." 

8  111 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

She  looked  a  little  mystified,  and  I  went  on :  "  Of 
course,  I  was  not  officially  authorized  to  visit  the  world 
outside,  but  I  was  permitted  to  do  so,  to  satisfy  a 
curiosity  the  priors  thought  useful;  but  I  have  now 
had  quite  enough  of  it,  and  I  shall  never  leave  home 
again." 

"  You  won't  come  to  live  in  America  ?" 

"God  forbid!"  said  I,  and  I  am  afraid  I  could  not 
hide  the  horror  that  ran  through  me  at  the  thought. 
"  And  when  you  once  see  our  happy  country,  you  could 
no  more  be  persuaded  to  return  to  America  than  a  dis- 
embodied spirit  could  be  persuaded  to  return  to  the 
earth." 

She  was  silent,  and  I  asked :  "  But,  surely,  you  un- 
derstood this,  Mrs.  Gray  ?" 

"  No,"  she  said,  reluctantly.     "  Does  Eveleth  ?" 

"  Why,  certainly,"  I  said.  "  We  have  talked  it  over 
a  hundred  times.    Hasn't  she — " 

^'  I  don't  know,'*  she  returned,  with  a  vague  trouble 
in  her  voice  and  eyes.  "  Perhaps  I  haven't  understood 
her  exactly.  Perhaps  —  but  I  shall  be  ready  to  do 
whatever  you  and  she  think  best.  I  am  an  old  woman, 
you  know ;  and,  you  know,  I  was  born  here,  and  I  should 
feel  the  change." 

Her  words  conveyed  to  me  a  delicate  reproach;  I 
felt  for  the  first  time  that,  in  my  love  of  my  own 
country,  I  had  not  considered  her  love  of  hers.  It  is 
said  that  the  Icelanders  are  homesick  when  they  leave 
their  world  of  lava  and  snow;  and  I  ought  to  have  re- 
membered that  an  American  might  have  some  such 
tenderness  for  his  atrocious  conditions,  if  he  were  ex- 
iled from  them  forever.  I  suppose  it  was  the  large  and 
wide  mind  of  Eveleth,  with  its  openness  to  a  knowledge 
and  appreciation  of  better  things,  that  had  suffered  me 
to  forget  this.      She   seemed   always  so  eager  to  see 

112 


TimOUGII   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

Altruriii,  she  iiuagiiicd  it  so  fully,  so  lovingly,  that  I 
had  ceased  to  think  of  her  as  an  alien ;  she  seemed  one 
of  us,  by  birth  as  well  as  by  affinity. 

Yet  now  the  words  of  her  mother,  and  the  light 
they  threw  upon  the  situation,  gave  me  pause.  I  be- 
gan to  ask  myself  questions  I  was  impatient  to  ask 
Eveleth,  so  that  there  should  be  no  longer  any  shadow 
of  misgiving  in  my  breast;  and  yet  I  found  myself 
dreading  to  ask  them,  lest  by  some  perverse  juggle  I 
had  mistaken  our  perfect  sympathy  for  a  perfect  un- 
derstanding. 


XXVI 

Like  all  cowards  who  wait  a  happy  moment  for  the 
duty  that  should  not  be  suffered  to  wait  at  all,  I  was 
destined  to  have  the  aifair  challenge  me,  instead  of 
seizing  the  advantage  of  it  that  instant  frankness  would 
have  given  me.  Shall  I  confess  that  I  let  several  days 
go  by,  and  still  had  not  spoken  to  Eveleth,  when,  at  the 
end  of  a  long  evening — the  last  long  evening  we  passed 
together — she  said: 

"Wliat  would  you  like  to  have  me  do  with  this 
house  while  we  are  gone  ?" 

"  Do  with  this  house  ?"  I  echoed ;  and  I  felt  as  if  I 
were  standing  on  the  edge  of  an  abyss. 

"  Yes ;  shall  we  let  it,  or  sell  it — or  what  ?  Or  give 
it  away?"  I  drew  a  little  breath  at  this;  perhaps  we 
had  not  misunderstood  each  other,  after  all.  She  went 
on :  "  Of  course,  I  have  a  peculiar  feeling  about  it,  so 
that  I  wouldn't  like  to  get  it  ready  and  let  it  furnished, 
in  the  ordinary  way.  I  would  rather  lend  it  to  some 
one,  if  I  could  be  sure  of  any  one  who  would  appreciate 
it;  but  I  can't,  l^ot  one.  And  it's  very  much  the 
same  when  one  comes  to  think  about  selling  it.  Yes, 
I  should  like  to  give  it  away  for  some  good  purpose,  if 
there  is  any  in  this  wretched  state  of  things.  What  do 
you  say,  Aristide?" 

She  always  used  the  French  form  of  my  name,  be- 
cause she  said  it  soimded  ridiculous  in  English,  for  a 
white  man,  though  I  told  her  that  the  English  was 
nearer  the  Greek  in  sound. 

114 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

"  Bj  all  means,  give  it  away,"  I  said.  "  Give  it  for 
some  public  purpose.  That  will  at  least  be  better  than 
any  private  purpose,  and  put  it  somehow  in  the  control 
of  the  State,  beyond  the  reach  of  individuals  or  cor- 
porations. Why  not  make  it  the  foundation  of  a  free 
school  for  the  study  of  the  Altrurian  polity?" 

She  laughed  at  this,  as  if  she  thought  I  must  be 
joking.  "  It  would  be  droll,  wouldn't  it,  to  have  Tam- 
many appointees  teaching  Altrurianism  ?"  Then  she 
said,  after  a  moment  of  reflection :  "  Why  not  ?  It 
needn't  be  in  the  hands  of  Tammany.  It  could  be  in 
the  hands  of  the  United  States;  I  will  ask  my  lawyer 
if  it  couldn't;  and  I  will  endow  it  with  money  enough 
to  support  the  school  handsomely.  Aristide,  you  have 
hit  it!" 

I  began :  "  You  can  give  all  your  money  to  it,  my 
dear — "  But  I  stopped  at  the  bewildered  look  she 
turned  on  me. 

"  All  ?"  she  repeated.  "  But  what  should  we  have 
to  live  on,  then  ?" 

"  We  shall  need  no  money  to  live  on  in  Altruria," 
I  answered. 

"  Oh,  in  Altruria !  But  when  we  come  back  to  'New 
York?" 

It  was  an  agonizing  moment,  and  I  felt  that  shut- 
ting of  the  heart  which  blinds  the  eyes  and  makes  the 
brain  reel.  "  Eveleth,"  I  gasped,  "  did  you  expect  to 
return  to  New  York  ?" 

"  Why,  certainly !"  she  cried.  "  ISTot  at  once,  of 
course.  But  after  you  had  seen  your  friends,  and 
made  a  good,  long  visit —  Why,  surely,  Aristide,  you 
don't  understand  that  I —  You  didn't  mean  to  live  in 
Altruria  ?" 

"  Ah !"  I  answered.  "  Where  else  could  I  live  ? 
Did  you  think  for  an  instant  that  I  could  live  in  such 

116 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

a  land  as  this  ?"  I  saw  that  she  was  hurt,  and  I  hasten- 
ed to  say :  "  I  know  that  it  is  the  best  part  of  the  world 
outside  of  Altruria,  but,  oh,  my  dear,  you  cannot  im- 
agine how  horrible  the  notion  of  living  here  seems  to 
me.  Forgive  me.  I  am  going  from  bad  to  worse.  I 
don't  mean  to  wound  you.  After  all,  it  is  your  coun- 
try, and  you  must  love  it.  But,  indeed,  I  could  not 
think  of  living  here.  I  could  not  take  the  burden  of 
its  wilful  misery  on  my  soul.  I  must  live  in  Altruria, 
and  you,  when  you  have  once  seen  my  country,  our 
country,  will  never  consent  to  live  in  any  other." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  I  know  it  must  be  very  beauti- 
ful; but  I  hadn't  supposed — and  yet  I  ought — " 

"  "No,  dearest,  no !  It  was  I  who  was  to  blame,  for 
not  being  clearer  from  the  first.  But  that  is  the  way 
with  us.  We  can't  imagine  any  people  willing  to  live 
anywhere  else  when  once  they  have  seen  Altruria ;  and 
I  have  told  you  so  much  of  it,  and  we  have  talked  of 
it  together  so  often,  that  I  must  have  forgotten  you  had 
not  actually  kno^vn  it.  But  listen,  Eveleth.  We  will 
agree  to  this:  After  we  have  been  a  year  in  Altruria, 
if  you  wish  to  return  to  America  I  will  come  back  and 
live  with  you  here." 

"  !N^o,  indeed !"  she  answered,  generously.  "  If  you 
are  to  be  my  husband,"  and  here  she  began  with  the 
solemn  words  of  the  Bible,  so  beautiful  in  their  quaint 
English,  "  '  whither  thou  goest,  I  will  go,  and  I  will 
not  return  from  following  after  thee.  Thy  country 
shall  be  my  country,  and  thy  God  my  God." 

I  caught  her  to  my  heart,  in  a  rapture  of  tenderness, 
and  the  evening  that  had  begim  for  us  so  forbiddingly 
ended  in  a  happiness  such  as  not  even  our  love  had 
known  before.  I  insisted  upon  the  conditions  I  had 
made,  as  to  our  future  home,  and  she  agreed  to  them 
gayly  at  last,  as  a  sort  of  reparation  which  I  might 

116 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

make  mj  conscience,  if  I  liked,  for  tearing  her  from 
a  country  which  she  had  willingly  lived  out  of  for  the 
far  greater  part  of  the  last  five  years. 

But  when  we  met  again  I  cculd  see  that  she  had 
been  thinking  seriously. 

^^  "  I  won't  give  the  house  absolutely  awav,"  she  said 
"I  will  keep  the  deed  of  it  myself,  but  I  will  estab- 
lish that  sort  of  school  of  Altrurian  doctrine  in  it,  and 
I  will  endow  it,  and  when  we  come  back  here,  for  our 
experimental  sojourn,  after  we've  been  in  Altrurid  a 
year,  we'll  take  up  our  quarters  in  it— I  won't  give 
the  whole  house  to  the  school  — and  we  will  lecture 
on  the  later  phases  of  Altrurian  life  to  the  pupils. 
How  will  that  do  ?" 

She  put  her  arms  around  my  neck,  and  I  said  that 
It  would  do  admirably;  but  I  had  a  certain  sinking  of 
the  heart,  for  I  saw  how  hard  it  was  even  for  Eveleth 
to  part  with  her  property. 

"  I'll  endow  it,"  she  went  on,  "  and  I'll  leave  the 
rest  of  my  money  at  interest  here;  unless  you  think 
that  some  Altrurian  securities — " 

"  ISTo;  there  are  no  such  things!"  I  cried. 
'^'That  was  what  I  thought,"  she  returned;   "and 
as  It  will  cost  us  nothing  while  we  are  in  Altruria,  the 
interest  will  be  something  very  handsome  by  the  time 
we  get  back,  even  in  United  States  bonds." 

"Something  handsome!"  I  cried.  "But,  Eveleth, 
haven't  I  lieard  you  say  yourself  that  the  growth  of 

interest  from  dead  money  was  like " 

"Oh  yes;  that!"  she  returned.  "But  you  know 
you  have  to  take  it.  You  can't  let  the  money  lie  idle: 
that  would  be  ridiculous;  and  then,  with  the  good 
purpose  we  have  in  view,  it  is  our  duty  to  take  the 
interest.  How  should  we  keep  up  the  school,  and  pay 
the  teachers,  and  everything?" 

117 


THROUGH   THE   EYE    OF   THE   NEEDLE 

I  saw  that  she  had  forgotten  the  great  sum  of  the 
principal,  or  that,  through  lifelong  training  and  asso- 
ciation, it  was  so  sacred  to  her  that  she  did  not  even 
dream  of  touching  it.  I  was  silent,  and  she  thought 
that  I  was  persuaded. 

"  You  are  perfectly  right  in  theory,  dear,  and  T  feel 
just  as  you  do  about  such  things;  I'm  sure  I've  suf- 
fered enough  from  them;  but  if  we  didn't  take  in- 
terest for  your  money,  what  should  we  have  to  live 
onT 

"  ^ot  my  money,  Eveleth !"  I  entreated.  "  Don't 
say  my  money !" 

"  But  whatever  is  mine  is  yours,"  she  returned,  with 
a  wounded  air. 

"  ISFot  your  money ;  but  I  hope  you  will  soon  have 
none.  We  should  need  no  money  to  live  on  in  Altru- 
ria.  Our  share  of  the  daily  work  of  all  will  amply 
suffice  for  our  daily  bread  and  shelter." 

"  In  Altruria,  yes.  But  how  about  America  ?  And 
you  have  promised  to  come  back  here  in  a  year,  you 
know.  Ladies  and  gentlemen  can't  share  in  the  daily 
toil  here,  even  if  they  could  get  the  toil,  and,  where 
there  are  so  many  out  of  work,  it  isn't  probable  they 
could." 

She  dropped  upon  my  knee  as  she  spoke,  laughing, 
and  put  her  hand  under  my  chin,  to  lift  my  fallen 
face. 

"  ^ow  you  mustn't  be  a  goose,  Aristide,  even  if  you 
are  an  angel !  ISTow  listen.  You  Tcnow,  don't  you,  that 
I  hate  money  just  as  badly  as  you  ?" 

"  You  have  made  me  think  so,  Eveleth,"  I  answered. 

"  I  hate  it  and  loathe  it.  I  think  it's  the  source  of 
all  the  sin  and  misery  in  the  world;  but  you  can't  get 
rid  of  it  at  a  blow.  For  if  you  gave  it  away  you  might 
do  more  harm  than  good  with  it." 

US 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  XEEDLE 

"  You  could  destroy  it,"  I  said. 

"  ]N'ot  unless  you  were  a  crank,"  she  returned. 
"And  that  brings  me  just  to  the  point.  I  know  that 
I'm  doing  a  very  queer  thing  to  get  married,  when  we 
know  so  little,  really,  about  you,"  and  she  accented 
this  confession  with  a  laugh  that  was  also  a  kiss.  "  But 
I  want  to  show  people  that  we  are  just  as  practical  as 
anybody;  and  if  they  can  know  that  I  have  left  my 
money  in  United  States  bonds,  they'll  respect  us,  no 
matter  what  I  do  with  the  interest.  Don't  you  see? 
We  can  come  back,  and  preach  and  teach  Altrurianism, 
and  as  long  as  we  pay  our  way  nobody  will  have  a  right 
to  say  a  word.  Wliy,  Tolstoy  himself  doesn't  destroy 
his  money,  though  he  wants  other  people  to  do  it.  His 
wife  keeps  it,  and  supports  the  family.  You  have  to 
do  it." 

"  He  doesn't  do  it  willingly." 

*'  'Eo.  And  ive  won't.  And  after  a  while  —  after 
we've  got  back,  and  compared  Altruria  and  America 
from  practical  experience,  if  we  decide  to  go  and  live 
there  altogether,  I  will  let  you  do  what  you  please  with 
the  hateful  money.  I  suppose  we  couldn't  take  it  there 
with  us  ?" 

"  !N^o  more  than  you  could  take  it  to  heaven  with 
you,"  I  answered,  solemnly;  but  she  would  not  let  me 
be  altogether  serious  about  it. 

"  Well,  in  either  case  we  could  get  on  without  it, 
though  we  certainly  could  not  get  on  without  it  here. 
Why,  Aristide,  it  is  essential  to  the  influence  we  shall 
try  to  exert  for  Altrurianism;  for  if  we  came  back 
here  and  preached  the  true  life  without  any  money  to 
back  us,  no  one  would  pay  any  attention  to  us.  But 
if  we  have  a  good  house  waiting  for  us,  and  are  able 
to  entertain  nicely,  we  can  attract  the  best  people,  and 
— and — really  do  some  good." 

^119 


XXVII 

I  EORE  in  a  distress  which  I  could  not  hide.  "  Oh, 
Eveleth,  Eveletli !"  I  cried.  "  You  are  like  all  the  rest, 
poor  child !  You  are  the  creature  of  your  environment, 
as  we  all  are.  You  cannot  escape  what  you  have  been. 
It  may  be  that  I  was  wrong  to  wish  or  expect  you  to 
cast  your  lot  with  me  in  Altruria,  at  once  and  forever. 
It  may  be  that  it  is  my  duty  to  return  here  with  you 
after  a  time,  not  only  to  let  you  see  that  Altruria  is 
best,  but  to  end  my  days  in  this  unhappy  land,  preach- 
ing and  teaching  Altrurianism ;  but  we  miist  not  come 
as  prophets  to  the  comfortable  people,  and  entertain 
nicely.  If  we  are  to  renew  the  evangel,  it  must  be  in 
the  life  and  the  spirit  of  the  First  Altrurian :  we  must 
come  poor  to  the  poor;  we  must  not  try  to  win  any 
one,  save  through  his  heart  and  conscience;  we  must 
be  as  simple  and  humble  as  the  least  of  those  that  Christ 
bade  follow  Him.  Eveleth,  perhaps  you  have  made  a 
mistake.  I  love  you  too  much  to  wish  you  to  suffer  even 
for  your  good.  Yes,  I  am  so  weak  as  that.  I  did  not 
think  that  this  would  be  the  sacrifice  for  you  that  it 
seems,  and  I  will  not  ask  it  of  you.  I  am  sorry  that 
we  have  not  understood  each  other,  as  I  supposed  Ave 
had.  I  could  never  become  an  American ;  perhaps  you 
could  never  become  an  Altrurian.  Think  of  it,  dearest. 
Think  well  of  it,  before  you  take  the  step  which  you 
cannot  recede  from.  I  hold  you  to  no  promise ;  I  love 
you  so  dearly  that  I  cannot  let  you  hold  yourself.  But 
you  must  choose  between  me  and  your  money — no,  not 

120 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

me — but  between  love  and  your  money.     You  cannot 
keep  both." 

She  had  stood  listening  to  me ;  now  she  cast  herself 
on  my  heart  and  stopped  my  words  with  an  impas- 
sioned kiss.  "  Then  there  is  no  choice  for  me.  My 
choice  is  made,  once  for  all."  She  set  her  hands  against 
my  breast  and  pushed  me  from  her.  "Go  now;  but 
come  again  to-morrow.  I  want  to  think  it  all  over 
again.  ;N"ot  that  I  have  any  doubt,  but  because  you 
wish  it — you  wish  it,  don't  you  ? — and  because  I  will 
not  let  you  ever  think  I  acted  upon  an  impulse,  and  that 
I  regretted  it." 

"  That  is  right,  Eveleth.  That  is  like  your  I  said, 
and  I  took  her  into  my  arms  for  good-night. 

The  next  day  I  came  for  her  decision,  or  rather  for 
her  confirmation  of  it.  The  man  who  opened  the  door 
to  me  met  me  with  a  look  of  concern  and  embarrass- 
ment. He  said  Mrs.  Strange  was  not  at  all  well,  and 
had  told  him  he  was  to  give  me  the  letter  he  handed 
me.  I  asked,  in  taking  it,  if  I  could  see  Mrs.  Gray, 
and  he  answered  that  Mrs.  Gray  had  not  been  do\\Ti 
yet,  but  he  would  go  and  see.  I  was  impatient  to  read 
my  letter,  and  I  made  I  know  not  what  vague  reply, 
and  I  found  myself,  I  know  not  how,  on  the  pavement, 
with  the  letter  open  in  my  hand.  It  began  abruptly 
without  date  or  address: 

''You  will  believe  that  I  Jiave  not  slept,  luhen  you 
read  this. 

"I  liave  thought  it  all  over  again,  as  you  wished, 
and  it  is  all  over  hetiveen  us. 

"I  am  what  you  said,  the  creature  of  my  environ- 
ment. I  cannot  detach  myself  from  it;  I  cannot  escape 
from  what  I  have  heen. 

"  I  am  luriling  this  ivith  a  strange  coldness,  like  the 
121 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

chill  of  death,  in  my  very  soul.  I  do  not  ash  you  to 
forgive  me;  I  have  your  forgiveness  already.  Do  not 
forget  me;  that  is  what  I  ask.  Remember  me  as  the 
unhappy  woman  who  was  not  equal  to  her  chance  when 
heaven  was  opened  to  her,  luho  could  not  choose  the 
best  ivhen  the  best  carne  to  her. 

"  There  is  no  use  writing;  if  I  Tcept  on  forever,  it 
would  always  be  the  same  cry  of  shame,  of  love. 

"  Eveleth  Strange." 

I  reeled  as  I  read  the  lines.  The  street  seemed  to 
weave  itself  into  a  circle  around  me.  But  I  knew  that 
I  was  not  dreaming,  that  this  was  no  delirium  of  my 
sleep. 

It  was  three  days  ago,  and  I  have  not  tried  to  see 
her  again.  I  have  written  her  a  line,  to  say  that  I  shall 
not  forget  her,  and  to  take  the  blame  upon  myself. 
I  expected  the  impossible  of  her. 

I  have  yet  two  days  before  me  until  the  steamer 
sails ;  we  were  to  have  sailed  together,  and  now  I  shall 
sail  alone. 

I  will  try  to  leave  it  all  behind  me  forever;  but 
while  I  linger  out  these  last  long  hours  here  I  must 
think  and  I  must  doubt. 

Was  she,  then,  the  poseuse  that  they  said  ?  Had  she 
really  no  heart  in  our  love?  Was  it  only  a  pretty 
drama  she  was  playing,  and  were  those  generous  mo- 
tives, those  lofty  principles  which  seemed  to  actuate 
her,  the  poetical  qualities  of  the  play,  the  graces  of 
her  pose  ?  I  cannot  believe  it.  I  believe  that  she  was 
truly  what  she  seemed,  for  she  had  been  that  even  be- 
fore she  met  me.  I  believe  that  she  was  pure  and  lofty 
in  soul  as  she  appeared;  but  that  her  life  was  warped 
to  such  a  form  by  the  false  conditions  of  this  sad  world 
that,  when  she  came  to  look  at  herself  again,  after  she 

122 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

had  been  confronted  with  the  sacrifice  before  her,  she 
feared  that  she  could  not  make  it  without  in  a  manner 
ceasing  to  be. 

She— 

But  I  shall  soon  see  jou  again;  and,  until  then, 
farewell. 


END    OF    PART    I 


PART    SECOND 


I  COULD  hardly  have  believed,  my  dear  Dorothea, 
that  I  should  be  so  late  in  writing  to  yon  from  Altru- 
ria,  but  you  can  easily  believe  that  I  am  thoroughly 
ashamed  of  myself  for  my  neglect.  It  is  not  for  want 
of  thinking  of  you,  or  talking  of  you,  that  I  have 
seemed  so  much  more  ungrateful  than  I  am.  My  hus- 
band and  I  seldom  have  any  serious  talk  which  doesn't 
somehow  come  round  to  you.  He  admires  you  and 
likes  you  as  much  as  I  do,  and  he  does  his  best,  poor 
man,  to  understand  you ;  but  his  not  understanding  you 
is  only  a  part  of  his  general  failure  to  understand  how 
any  American  can  be  kind  and  good  in  conditions 
which  he  considers  so  abominable  as  those  of  the  capi- 
talistic world.  He  is  not  nearly  so  severe  on  us  as  he 
used  to  be  at  times  when  he  was  among  us.  When  the 
other  Altrurians  are  discussing  us  he  often  puts  in  a 
reason  for  us  against  their  logic;  and  I  think  he 
has  really  forgotten,  a  good  deal,  how  bad  things  are 
with  us,  or  else  finds  his  own  memory  of  them  incredi- 
ble. But  his  experience  of  the  world  outside  his  own 
country  has  taught  him  how  to  temper  the  passion 
of  the  Altrurians  for  justice  with  a  tolerance  of  the 
unjust;  and  when  they  bring  him  to  book  on  his  own 
report  of  us  he  tries  to  explain  us  away,  and  show  how 
we  are  not  so  bad  as  we  ought  to  be. 

For  weeks  after  we  came  to  Altruria  I  was  so  un- 
historically  blest  that  if  I  had  been  disposed  to  give 
you  a  full  account  of  myself  I  should  have  had  no 
9  127 


THE-OUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

events  to  hang  the  narrative  on.  Life  here  is  so  sub- 
jective (if  you  don't  know  what  that  is,  you  poor  dear, 
you  must  get  Mr.  Twelvemough  to  explain)  that  there 
is  usually  nothing  like  news  in  it,  and  I  always  feel 
that  the  difference  between  Altruria  and  America  is  so 
immense  that  it  is  altogether  beyond  me  to  describe  it. 
But  now  we  have  had  some  occurrences  recently,  quite 
in  the  American  sense,  and  these  have  furnished  me 
with  an  incentive  as  well  as  opportunity  to  send  you  a 
letter.  Do  you  remember  how,  one  evening  after  din- 
ner, in  !N^ew  York,  you  and  I  besieged  my  husband  and 
tried  to  make  him  tell  us  why  Altruria  was  so  isolated 
from  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  why  such  a  great  and 
enlightened  continent  should  keep  itself  apart?  I  see 
still  his  look  of  horror  when  Mr.  Makely  suggested  that 
the  United  States  should  send  an  expedition  and 
"  open  "  Altruria,  as  Commodore  Perry  "  opened  " 
Japan  in  1850,  and  try  to  enter  into  commercial  re- 
lations with  it.  The  best  he  could  do  was  to  say  what 
always  seemed  so  incredible,  and  keep  on  assuring  us 
that  Altruria  wished  for  no  sort  of  public  relations  with 
Europe  or  America,  but  was  very  willing  to  depend  for 
an  indefinite  time  for  its  communication  with  those  re- 
gions on  vessels  putting  into  its  ports  from  stress  of 
one  kind  or  other,  or  castaway  on  its  coasts.  They  are 
mostly  trading-ships  or  whalers,  and  they  come  a  great 
deal  of tener  than  you  suppose ;  you  do  not  hear  of  them 
afterwards,  because  their  crews  are  poor,  ignorant  peo- 
ple, whose  stories  of  their  adventures  are  always  dis- 
trusted, and  who  know  they  would  be  laughed  at  if  they 
told  the  stories  they  could  of  a  country  like  Altruria. 
My  husband  himself  took  one  of  their  vessels  on  her 
home  voyage  when  he  came  to  us,  catching  the  Austral- 
asian steamer  at  l^ew  Zealand;  and  now  I  am  writing 
you  by  the  same  sort  of  opportunity.    I  shall  have  time 

128 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

enough  to  write  jou  a  longer  letter  than  you  will  care 
to  read;  the  ship  does  not  sail  for  a  week  yet,  because 
it  is  so  hard  to  get  her  crew  together. 

'Now  that  I  have  actually  made  a  beginning,  my 
mind  goes  back  so  strongly  to  that  terrible  night  when 
I  came  to  you  after  Aristides  (I  always  use  the  Eng- 
lish form  of  his  name  now)  left  JSTew  York  that  I 
seem  to  be  living  the  tragedy  over  again,  and  this 
happiness  of  mine  here  is  like  a  dream  which  I  can- 
not trust.  It  was  not  all  tragedy,  though,  and  I  re- 
member how  funny  Mr,  Makely  was,  trying  to  keep 
his  face  straight  when  the  whole  truth  had  to  come 
out,  and  I  confessed  that  I  had  expected,  without 
really  knowing  it  myself,  that  Aristides  would  dis- 
regard that  wicked  note  I  had  written  him  and  come 
and  make  me  marry  him,  not  against  my  will,  but 
against  my  word.  Of  course  I  didn't  put  it  in  just 
that  way,  but  in  a  way  to  let  you  both  guess  it.  The 
first  glimmering  of  hope  that  I  had  was  when  Mr. 
Makely  said,  "  Then,  when  a  woman  tells  a  man  that 
all  is  over  between  them  forever,  she  means  that  she 
would  like  to  discuss  the  business  with  him?"  I  was 
old  enough  to  be  ashamed,  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  you 
and  I  had  gone  back  in  that  awful  moment  and  were 
two  girls  together,  just  as  we  used  to  be  at  school.  I 
was  proud  of  the  way  you  stood  up  for  me,  because  I 
thought  that  if  you  could  tolerate  me  after  what  I  had 
confessed  I  could  not  be  quite  a  fool.  I  knew  that  I 
deserved  at  least  some  pity,  and  though  I  laughed  with 
Mr.  Makely,  I  was  glad  of  your  indignation  with  him, 
and  of  your  faith  in  Aristides.  When  it  came  to  the 
question  of  what  I  should  do,  I  don't  know  which  of 
you  I  owed  the  most  to.  It  was  a  kind  of  comfort  to 
have  Mr.  Makely  acknowledge  that  though  he  regarded 
Aristides  as  a  myth,  still  he  believed  that  he  was  a 

129 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

thoroughly  good  myth,  and  couldn't  tell  a  lie  if  he 
wanted  to;  and  I  loved  you,  and  shall  love  you  more 
than  any  one  else  but  him,  for  saying  that  Aristides  was 
the  most  real  man  you  had  ever  met,  and  that  if  every- 
thing he  said  was  untrue  you  would  trust  him  to  the 
end  of  the  world. 

But,  Dolly,  it  wasn't  all  comedy,  any  more  than  it 
was  all  tragedy,  and  when  you  and  I  had  laughed  and 
cried  ourselves  to  the  point  where  there  was  nothing 
for  me  to  do  but  to  take  the  next  boat  for  Liverpool, 
and  Mr.  Makely  had  agreed  to  look  after  the  tickets 
and  cable  Aristides  that  I  was  coming,  there  was 
still  my  poor,  dear  mother  to  deal  with.  There  is  no 
use  trying  to  conceal  from  you  that  she  was  always 
opposed  to  my  husband.  She  thought  there  was  some- 
thing uncanny  about  him,  though  she  felt  as  we  did 
that  there  was  nothing  uncanny  in  him;  but  a  man 
who  pretended  to  come  from  a  country  where  there  was 
no  riches  and  no  poverty  could  not  be  trusted  with  any 
woman's  happiness;  and  though  she  could  not  help 
loving  him,  she  thought  I  ought  to  tear  him  out  of  my 
heart,  and  if  I  could  not  do  that  I  ought  to  have 
myself  shut  up  in  an  asylum.  We  had  a  dreadful 
time  when  I  told  her  what  I  had  decided  to  do,  and 
I  was  almost  frantic.  At  last,  when  she  saw  that  I  was 
determined  to  follow  him,  she  yielded,  not  because  she 
was  convinced,  but  because  she  could  not  give  me  up; 
I  wouldn't  have  let  her  if  she  could.  I  believe  that 
the  only  thing  which  reconciled  her  was  that  you 
and  Mr.  Makely  believed  in  him,  and  thought  I  had 
better  do  what  I  wanted  to,  if  nothing  could  keep 
me  from  it.  I  shall  never,  never  forget  Mr.  Makely 's 
goodness  in  coming  to  talk  with  her,  and  how  skilfully 
he  managed,  without  committing  himself  to  Altruria,  to 
declare  his  faith  in  my  Altrurian.    Even  then  she  was 

130 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

troubled  about  what  she  thought  the  indelicacy  of  my  be- 
havior in  following  him  across  the  sea,  and  she  had  all 
sorts  of  doubts  as  to  how  he  would  receive  me  when  we 
met  in  Liverpool.  It  wasn't  very  reasonable  of  me  to  say 
that  if  he  cast  me  off  I  should  still  love  him  more  than 
any  other  human  being,  and  his  censure  would  be  more 
precious  to  me  than  the  praise  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 
I  suppose  I  hardly  knew  what  I  was  saying,  but 
when  once  I  had  yielded  to  my  love  for  him  there  was 
nothing  else  in  life.     I  could  not  have  left  my  mother 
behind,  but  in  her  opposition  to  me  she  seemed  like  an 
enemy,  and  I  should  somehow  have  forced  her  to  go 
if  she  had  not  yielded.    When  she  did  yield,  she  yielded 
with  her  whole  heart  and  soul,  and  so  far  from  hinder- 
ing me  in  my  preparations  for  the  voyage,  I  do  not  be- 
lieve I  could  have  got  off  without  her.     She  thought 
about  everything,   and  it  was  her  idea  to  leave  my 
business  affairs  entirely  in  Mr.  Makely's  hands,  and 
to  trust  the  future  for  the  final  disposition  of  my  prop- 
erty.   I  did  not  care  for  it  myself;  I  hated  it,  because 
it  was  that  which  had  stood  between  me  and  Aristides ; 
but  she  foresaw  that  if  by  any  wild  impossibility  he 
should  reject  me  when  we  met,  I  should  need  it  for  the 
life  I  must  go  back  to  in  iNew  York.    She  behaved  like  a 
martyr  as  well  as  a  heroine,  for  till  we  reached  Altruria 
she  was  a  continual  sacrifice  to  me.     She  stubbornly 
doubted  the  whole  affair,  but  now  I  must  do  her  the 
justice  to  say  that  she  has  been  convinced  by  the  fact. 
The  best  she  can  say  of  it  is  that  it  is  like  the  world 
of  her  girlhood ;  and  she  has  gone  back  to  the  simple 
life  here  from  the  artificial  life  in  ^w  York,  with  the 
joy  of  a  child.      She  works  the  whole  day,  and  she 
would  play  if  she  had  ever  learned  how.     She  is  a  bet- 
ter Altrurian  than  I  am;  if  there  could  be  a  bigoted 
Altrurian  my  mother  would  be  one. 

131 


II 


I  SENT  you  a  short  letter  from  Liverpool,  saying  that 
by  the  unprecedented  delays  of  the  Urania,  which  I 
had  taken  because  it  was  the  swiftest  boat  of  the  ISTep- 
tune  line,  we  had  failed  to  pass  the  old,  ten-day,  single- 
screw  Galaxy  liner  which  Aristides  had  sailed  in.  I 
had  only  time  for  a  word  to  you ;  but  a  million  words 
could  not  have  told  the  agonies  I  suffered,  and  when 
I  overtook  him  on  board  the  Orient  Pacific  steamer 
at  Plymouth,  where  she  touched,  I  could  just  scribble 
off  the  cable  sent  Mr.  Makely  before  our  steamer  put 
off  again.  I  am  afraid  you  did  not  find  my  cable  very 
expressive,  but  I  was  glad  that  I  did  not  try  to  say 
more,  for  if  I  had  tried  I  should  simply  have  gibbered, 
at  a  shilling  a  gibber.  I  expected  to  make  amends  by 
a  whole  volume  of  letters,  and  I  did  post  a  dozen  under 
one  cover  from  Colombo.  If  they  never  reached  you 
I  am  very  sorry,  for  now  it  is  impossible  to  take  up  the 
threads  of  that  time  and  weave  them  into  any  sort  of 
connected  pattern.  You  will  have  to  let  me  off  with 
saying  that  Aristides  was  everything  that  I  believed 
he  would  be  and  was  never  really  afraid  he  might  not 
be.  From  the  moment  we  caught  sight  of  each  other  at 
Plymouth,  he  at  the  rail  of  the  steamer  and  I  on  the 
deck  of  the  tender,  we  were  as  completely  one  as  we 
are  now.  I  never  could  tell  how  I  got  aboard  to  him ; 
whether  he  came  down  and  brought  me,  or  whether  I  was 
simply  rapt  through  the  air  to  his  side.  It  would  have 
been  embarrassing  if  we  had  not  treated  the  situation 

132 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

frankly;  but  such  odd  things  happen  among  the  Eng- 
lish going  out  to  their  different  colonies  that  our  mar- 
riage, by  a  missionary  returning  to  his  station,  was  not 
even  a  nine  days'  wonder  with  our  fellow-passengers. 

We  were  a  good  deal  more  than  nine  days  on  the 
steamer  before  we  could  get  a  vessel  that  would  take  us 
on  to  Altruria;  but  we  overhauled  a  ship  going  there 
for  provisions  at  last,  and  we  were  all  put  off  on  her, 
bag  and  baggage,  with  three  cheers  from  the  friends  we 
were  leaving;  I  think  they  thought  we  were  going  to 
some  of  the  British  islands  that  the  Pacific  is  full  of.  I 
had  been  thankful  from  the  first  that  I  had  not  brought 
a  maid,  knowing  the  Altrurian  prejudice  against  hire- 
ling service,  but  I  never  was  so  glad  as  I  was  when  we 
got  aboard  that  vessel,  for  when  the  captain's  wife,  who 
was  with  him,  found  that  I  had  no  one  to  look  after 
me,  she  looked  after  me  herself,  just  for  the  fun  of  it, 
she  said;  but  I  knew  it  was  the  love  of  it.  It  was  a 
sort  of  general  trading-ship,  stopping  at  the  different 
islands  in  the  South  Seas,  and  had  been  a  year  out  from 
home,  where  the  kind  woman  had  left  her  little  ones ; 
she  cried  over  their  photographs  to  me.  Her  husband 
had  been  in  Altruria  before,  and  he  and  Aristides  were 
old  acquaintances  and  met  like  brothers;  some  of  the 
crew  knew  him,  too,  and  the  captain  relaxed  discipline 
so  far  as  to  let  us  shake  hands  with  the  second-mate  as 
the  men's  representative. 

I  needn't  dwell  on  the  incidents  of  our  home-coming 
— for  that  was  what  it  seemed  for  my  mother  and  me 
as  well  as  for  my  husband — ^but  I  must  give  you  one 
detail  of  our  reception,  for  I  still  think  it  almost  the 
prettiest  thing  that  has  happened  to  us  among  the 
millions  of  pretty  things.  Aristides  had  written  home 
of  our  engagement,  and  he  was  expected  with  his  Amer- 
ican wife;  and  before  we  came  to  anchor  the  captain 

133 


TIIKOUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

ran  up  the  Emissary's  signal,  which  my  husband  gave 
him,  and  then  three  boats  left  the  shore  and  pulled 
rapidly  out  to  us.  As  they  came  nearer  I  saw  the 
first  Altrurian  costumes  in  the  lovely  colors  that  the 
people  wear  here,  and  that  make  a  group  of  them 
look  like  a  flower-bed;  and  then  I  saw  that  the  boats 
were  banked  with  flowers  along  the  gunwales  from 
stem  to  stern,  and  that  they  were  each  not  manned, 
but  girled  by  six  rowers,  who  pulled  as  true  a  stroke 
as  I  ever  saw  in  our  boat-races.  When  they  caught  sight 
of  us,  leaning  over  the  side,  and  Aristides  lifted  his 
hat  and  waved  it  to  them,  they  all  stood  their  oars  up- 
right, and  burst  into  a  kind  of  welcome  song:  I  Had 
been  dreading  one  of  those  stupid,  banging  salutes  of 
ten  or  twenty  guns,  and  you  can  imagine  what  a  relief 
it  was.  They  were  great,  splendid  creatures,  as  tall  as 
our  millionaires'  tallest  daughters,  and  as  strong-look- 
ing as  any  of  our  college-girl  athletes ;  and  when  we  got 
down  over  the  ship's  side,  and  Aristides  said  a  few 
words  of  introduction  for  my  mother  and  me,  as  we 
stepped  into  the  largest  of  the  boats,  I  thought  they 
w^ould  crush  me,  catching  me  in  their  strong,  brown 
arms,  and  kissing  me  on  each  cheek;  they  never  kiss 
on  the  mouth  in  Altruria.  The  girls  in  the  other  boats 
kissed  their  hands  to  mother  and  me,  and  shouted  to 
Aristides,  and  then,  when  our  boat  set  out  for  the  shore, 
they  got  on  each  side  of  us  and  sang  song  after  song  as 
they  pulled  even  stroke  with  our  crew.  Half-way,  we 
met  three  other  boats,  really  manned,  these  ones,  and 
going  out  to  get  our  baggage,  and  then  you  ought  to 
have  heard  the  shouting  and  laughing,  that  ended  in 
more  singing,  when  the  young  fellows'  voices  mixed 
with  the  girls,  till  they  were  lost  in  the  welcome  that 
came  off  to  us  from  the  crowded  quay,  where  I  should 
have  thought  half  Altruria  had  gathered  to  receive  us. 

134 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

I  was  afraid  it  was  going  to  be  too  much  for  my 
mother,  but  she  stood  it  bravely ;  and  almost  at  a  glance 
people  began  to  take  her  into  consideration,  and  she 
was  delivered  over  to  two  young  married  ladies,  who 
saw  that  she  was  made  comfortable,  the  first  of  any, 
in  the  pretty  Kegionic  guest-house  where  they  put  us. 

I  wish  I  could  give  you  a  notion  of  that  guest-house, 
with  its  cool,  quiet  rooms,  and  its  lawned  and  gardened 
enclosure,  and  a  little  fountain  purring  away  among  the 
flowers !  But  what  astonished  me  was  that  there  were  j 
no  sort  of  carriages,  or  wheeled  conveyances,  which,/ 
after  our  escort  from  the  ship,  I  thought  might  very? 
well  have  met  the  returning  Emissary  and  his  wife. 
They  made  my  mother  get  into  a  litter,  with  soft  cush- 
ions and  with  lilac  curtains  blowing  round  it,  and  six 
girls  carried  her  up  to  the  house ;  but  they  seemed  not 
to  imagine  my  not  walking,  and,  in  fact,  I  could  hard- 
ly have  imagined  it  myself,  after  the  first  moment  of 
queerness.  That  walk  was  full  of  such  rich  experience 
for  every  one  of  the  senses  that  I  would  not  have 
missed  a  step  of  it ;  but  as  soon  as  I  could  get  Aristides 
alone  I  asked  him  about  horses,  and  he  said  that  though 
horses  were  still  used  in  farm  work,  not  a  horse  was 
allowed  in  any  city  or  village  of  Altruria,  because  of 
their  filthiness.  As  for  public  vehicles,  they  used  to 
have  electric  trolleys;  in  the  year  that  he  had  been 
absent  they  had  substituted  electric  motors;  but  these 
were  not  running,  because  it  was  a  holiday  on  which 
we  had  happened  to  arrive. 

There  was  another  incident  of  my  first  day  which 
I  think  will  amuse  you,  knowing  how  I  have  always 
shrunk  from  any  sort  of  public  appearances.  When 
Aristides  went  to  make  his  report  to  the  people  assem- 
bled in  a  sort  of  convention,  I  had  to  go  too,  and  take 
part  in  the  proceedings;  for  women  are  on  an  entire 

135 


THROUGH   THE   EYE    OF   THE   NEEDLE 

equality  with  the  men  here,  and  i)euple  wuukl  be 
shocked  if  husband  and  wife  were  separated  in  their 
public  life.  Thej'-  did  not  spare  me  a  single  thing. 
Where  Aristides  was  not  very  clear,  or  rather  not  full 
enough,  in  describing  America,  I  was  called  on  to  sup- 
plement, and  I  had  to  make  several  speeches.  Of 
course,  as  I  spoke  in  English,  he  had  to  put  it  into 
Altrurian  for  me,  and  it  made  the  greatest  excitement. 
The  Altrurians  are  very  lively  people,  and  as  full  of 
the  desire  to  hear  some  new  things  as  Paul  said  the  men 
of  Athens  were.  At  times  they  were  in  a  perfect  gale 
of  laughter  at  what  we  told  them  about  America. 
Afterwards  some  of  the  women  confessed  to  me  that 
they  liked  to  hear  us  speaking  English  together;  it 
sounded  like  the  whistling  of  birds  or  the  shrilling  of 
locusts.  But  they  were  perfectly  kind,  and  though 
they  laughed  it  was  clear  that  they  laughed  at  what  we 
were  saying,  and  never  at  us,  or  at  least  never  at  me. 

Of  course  there  was  the  greatest  curiosity  to  know 
what  Aristides'  wife  looked  like,  as  well  as  sounded 
like;  he  had  written  out  about  our  engagement  before 
I  broke  it;  and  my  clothes  were  of  as  much  interest  as 
myself,  or  more.  You  know  how  I  had  purposely  left 
my  latest  Paris  things  behind,  so  as  to  come  as  simply 
as  possible  to  the  simple  life  of  Altruria,  but  still  with 
my  big  leg-of-mutton  sleeves,  and  my  picture-hat,  and 
my  pinched  waist,  I  felt  perfectly  grotesque,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  I  looked  it.  They  had  never  seen  a  lady  from 
the  capitalistic  world  before,  but  only  now  and  then 
a  whaling-captain's  wife  who  had  come  ashore;  and  I 
knew  they  were  burning  to  examine  my  smart  clothes 
down  to  the  last  button  and  bit  of  braid.  I  had  on  the 
short  skirts  of  last  year,  and  I  could  feel  ten  thousand 
eyes  fastened  on  my  high-heeled  boots,  which  you  know 
I  never  went  to  extremes  in.    I  confess  my  face  burned 

130 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

a  little,  to  realize  what  a  scarecrow  I  must  look,  when 
I  glanced  round  at  those  Altrurian  women,  whose  pretty, 
classic  fashions  made  the  whole  place  like  a  field  of 
lilacs  and  irises,  and  knew  that  they  were  as  comfort- 
able as  they  were  beautiful.  Do  you  remember  some 
of  the  descriptions  of  the  undergraduate  maidens  in 
the  "  Princess  " — I  know  you  had  it  at  school — where 
they  are  sitting  in  the  palace  halls  together?  The 
effect  was  something  like  that. 

You  may  be  sure  that  I  got  out  of  my  things 
as  soon  as  I  could  borrow  an  Altrurian  costume, 
and  now  my  Paris  confections  are  already  hung  up 
for  monuments,  as  Pichard  III.  says,  in  the  Capital- 
istic Museum,  where  people  from  the  outlying  Regions 
may  come  and  study  them  as  object  -  lessons  in  what 
not  to  wear.  (You  remember  what  you  said  Aristides 
told  you,  when  he  spoke  that  day  at  the  mountains, 
about  the  Pegions  that  Altruria  is  divided  into  ?  This 
is  the  Maritime  Region,  and  the  city  where  we  are 
living  for  the  present  is  the  capital.)  You  may  think 
this  was  rather  hard  on  me,  and  at  first  it  did  seem 
pretty  intimate,  having  my  things  in  a  long  glass  case, 
and  it  gave  me  a  shock  to  see  them,  as  if  it  had  been 
my  ghost,  whenever  I  passed  them.  But  the  fact  is 
I  was  more  ashamed  than  hurt  —  they  were  so  ugly 
and  stupid  and  useless.  I  could  have  borne  my  Paris 
dress  and  my  picture-hat  if  it  had  not  been  for  those 
ridiculous  high  -  heeled,  pointed  -  toe  shoes,  which  the 
Curatress  had  stood  at  the  bottom  of  the  skirts.  They 
looked  the  most  frantic  things  you  can  imagine,  and  the 
mere  sight  of  them  made  my  poor  feet  aclie  in  the 
beautiful  sandals  I  am  wearing  now;  when  once  you 
have  put  on  sandals  you  say  good-bye  and  good-riddance 
to  shoes.  In  a  single  month  my  feet  have  grown  al- 
most a  tenth  as  large  again   as  they  were,   and  my 

137 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

friends  here  encourage  me  to  believe  that  thej  will  yet 
measure  nearly  the  classic  size,  though,  as  you  know, 
I  am  not  in  my  first  youth  and  can't  expect  them  to 
do  miracles. 

I  had  to  leave  off  abruptly  at  the  last  page  because 
Aristides  had  come  in  with  a  piece  of  news  that  took 
my  mind  off  everything  else.  I  am  afraid  you  are  not 
going  to  get  this  letter  even  at  the  late  date  I  had  set 
for  its  reaching  you,  my  dear.  It  seems  that  there  has 
been  a  sort  of  mutiny  among  the  crew  of  our  trader, 
which  was  to  sail  next  week,  and  now  there  is  no  tell- 
ing when  she  will  sail.  Ever  sincje  she  came  the  men 
have  been  allowed  their  liberty,  as  they  call  it,  by 
watches,  but  the  last  watch  came  ashore  this  week  be- 
fore another  watch  had  returned  to  the  ship,  and  now 
not  one  of  the  sailors  will  go  back.  They  had  been 
exploring  the  country  by  turns,  at  their  leisure,  it 
seems,  and  their  excuse  is  that  they  like  Altruria  bet- 
ter than  America,  which  they  say  they  wish  never  to 
see  again. 

You  know  (though  I  didn't,  till  Aristides  explained 
to  me)  that  in  any  European  country  the  captain  in 
such  a  case  would  go  to  his  consul,  and  the  consul  would 
go  to  the  police,  and  the  police  would  run  the  men  down 
and  send  them  back  to  the  ship  in  irons  as  deserters, 
or  put  them  in  jail  till  the  captain  was  ready  to  sail, 
and  then  deliver  them  up  to  him.  But  it  seems  that 
there  is  no  law  in  Altruria  to  do  anything  of  the  kind ; 
the  only  law  here  that  would  touch  the  case  is  one 
which  obliges  any  citizen  to  appear  and  answer  the  com- 
plaint of  any  other  citizen  before  the  Justiciary  Assem- 
bly. A  citizen  cannot  be  imprisoned  for  anything  but 
'  the  rarest  offence,  like  killing  a  person  in  a  fit  of  pas- 
sion; and  as  to  seizing  upon  men  who  are  guilty  of 

138 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

nothing  worse  than  wanting  to  be  left  to  the  pursuit 
of  happiness,   as  all  the  Altrurians  are,   there  is  no 
statute  and  no  usage  for  it.    Aristides  says  that  the  only 
thing  which  can  be  done  is  to  ask  the  captain  and  the 
men  to  come  to  the  Assembly  and  each  state  his  case. 
The  Altrurians  are  not  anxious  to  have  the  men  stay 
not  merely  because  they  are  coarse,  rude,  or  vicious,  but 
because  they  thmk  they  ought  to  go  home  and  tell  the 
Americans  what  they  have  seen  and  heard  here,  and  try 
and  get  them  to  found  an  Altrurian  Commonwealth  of 
their  own.    Still  they  will  not  compel  them  to  go,  and  the 
magistrates  do  not  wish  to  rouse  any  sort  of  sentiment 
against  them     They  feel  that  the  men  are  standing  on 
heir  natural  rights,  which  they  could  not  abdicate  if 
hey  would.     I  know  this  will  appear  perfectly  ridicu- 
lous to  Mr.  Makely,  and  I  confess  myself  that  there 
seems  something  binding  in  a  contract  which  ought  to 
act  on  the  men's  consciences,  at  least. 


Ill 


Well,  my  dear  Dorothea,  the  hearing  before  the 
Assembly  is  over,  and  it  has  left  us  just  where  it  found 
us,  as  far  as  the  departure  of  our  trader  is  concerned. 

How  I  wish  you  could  liave  been  there!  The  hear- 
ing lasted  three  days,  and  I  would  not  have  missed  a 
minute  of  it.  *As  it  was,  I  did  not  miss  a  syllable,  and 
it  was  so  deeply  printed  on  my  mind  that  I  believe  I 
could  repeat  it  word  for  word  if  I  had  to.  But,  in  the 
first  place,  I  must  try  and  realize  the  scene  to  you.  I 
was  once  summoned  as  a  witness  in  one  of  our  courts, 
you  remember,  and  I  have  never  forgotten  the  horror 
of  it:  the  hot,  dirty  room,  with  its  foul  air,  the  brutal 
spectators,  the  policemen  stationed  among  them  to  keep 
them  in  order,  the  lawyers  with  the  plaintiff  and  de- 
fendant seated  all  at  one  table,  the  uncouth  abruptness 
of  the  clerks  and  janitors,  or  whatever,  the  undignified 
magistrate,  who  looked  as  if  his  lunch  had  made  him 
drowsy,  and  who  seemed  half  asleep,  as  he  slouched  in 
his  arm-chair  behind  his  desk.  Instead  of  such  a  set- 
ting as  this,  you  must  imagine  a  vast  marble  amphi- 
theatre, larger  than  the  Metropolitan  Opera,  by  three 
or  four  times,  all  the  gradines  overflowing  (that  is  the 
word  for  the  "liquefaction  of  the  clothes"  which  poured 
over  them),  and  looking  like  those  Bermudan  waters 
where  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  seem  dropped  around 
the  coast.  On  the  platform,  or  stage,  sat  the  Presidents  of 
the  Assembly,  and  on  a  tier  of  seats  behind  and  above 
them,  the  national  Magistrates,  who,  as  this  is  the  cap- 

140 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

ital  of  the  republic  for  the  time  being,  had  decided  to 
be  present  at  the  hearing,  because  they  thought  the  case 
so  very  important.  In  the  hollow  space,  just  below 
(like  that  where  you  remember  the  Chorus  stood  in 
that  Greek  play  which  we  saw  at  Harvard  ages  ago), 
were  the  captain  and  the  first -mate  on  one  hand,  and 
the  seamen  on  the  other;  the  second-mate,  our  particular 
friend,  was  not  there  because  he  never  goes  ashore  any- 
where, and  had  chosen  to  remain  with  the  black  cook  in 
charge  of  the  ship.  The  captain's  wife  would  rather 
have  stayed  with  them,  but  I  persuaded  her  to  come  to 
us  for  the  days  of  the  hearing,  because  the  captain  had 
somehow  thought  we  were  opposed  to  him,  and  because 
I  thought  she  ought  to  be  there  to  encourage  him  by  her 
presence.  She  sat  next  to  me,  in  a  hat  which  I  wish 
you  could  have  seen,  Dolly,  and  a  dress  which  would 
have  set  your  teeth  on  edge ;  but  inside  of  them  I  knew 
she  was  one  of  the  best  souls  in  the  world,  and  I  loved 
her  the  more  for  being  the  sight  she  was  among  those 
wonderful  Altrurian  women. 

The  weather  was  perfect,  as  it  nearly  always  is  at 
this  time  of  year — warm,  yet  fresh,  with  a  sky  of  that 
"  bleu  impossible  "  of  the  Kiviera  on  the  clearest  day. 
Some  people  had  parasols,  but  they  put  them  down  as 
soon  as  the  hearing  began,  and  everybody  could  see  per- 
fectly. You  would  have  thought  they  could  not  hear 
so  well,  but  a  sort  of  immense  sounding  -  plane  was 
curved  behind  the  stage,  so  that  not  a  word  of  the  testi- 
mony on  either  side  was  lost  to  me  in  English.  The 
Altrurian  translation  was  given  the  second  day  of  the 
hearing  through  a  megaphone,  as  different  in  tone  from 
the  thing  that  the  man  in  the  Grand  Central  Station 
bellows  the  trains  through  as  the  vox-Tiumana  stop  of 
an  organ  is  different  from  the  fog-horn  of  a  light-house. 
The  captain's  wife  was  bashful,  in  her  odd  American 

141 


THROUGn  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

dress,  but  we  had  got  seats  near  the  tribune,  rather  out 
of  sight,  and  there  was  nothing  to  hinder  our  hearing, 
like  the  frou-frou  of  stiff  silks  or  starched  skirts  (which 
I  am  afraid  we  poor  things  in  America  like  to  make 
when  we  move)  from  the  soft,  filmy  tissues  that  the  Al- 
trurian  women  wear ;  but  I  must  confess  that  there  was 
a  good  deal  of  whispering  while  the  captain  and  the  men 
were  telling  their  stories.  But  no  one  except  the  in- 
terpreters, who  were  taking  their  testimony  down  in 
short-hand,  to  be  translated  into  Altrurian  and  read  at 
the  subsequent  hearing,  could  imderstand  what  they 
were  saying,  and  so  nobody  was  disturbed  by  the  mur- 
murs. The  whispering  was  mostly  near  me,  where  I 
sat  with  the  captain's  wife,  for  everybody  I  knew  got 
as  close  as  they  could  and  studied  my  face  when  they 
thought  anything  important  or  significant  had  been 
said.  They  are  very  quick  at  reading  faces  here;  in 
fact,  a  great  deal  of  the  conversation  is  carried  on  in 
that  way,  or  with  the  visible  speech ;  and  my  Altrurian 
friends  knew  almost  as  well  as  I  did  when  the  speakers 
came  to  an  interesting  point.  It  was  rather  embarrass- 
ing for  me,  though,  with  the  poor  captain's  wife  at 
my  side,  to  tell  them,  in  my  broken  Altrurian,  what 
the  men  were  accusing  the  captain  of. 

I  talk  of  the  men,  but  it  was  really  only  one  of  them 
who  at  first,  by  their  common  consent,  spoke  for  the 
rest.  He  was  a  middle-aged  Yankee,  and  almost  the 
only  born  American  among  them,  for  you  know  that 
our  sailors,  nowadays,  are  of  every  nationality  under 
the  sun  —  Portuguese,  I^orwegians,  Greeks,  Italians, 
Kanucks,  and  Kanakas,  and  even  Cape  Cod  Indians. 
He  said  he  guessed  his  story  was  the  story  of  most 
sailors,  and  he  had  followed  the  sea  his  whole  life.  His 
story  was  dreadful,  and  I  tried  to  persuade  the  cap- 
tain's wife  not  to  come  to  the  hearing  the  next  day, 

142 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

when  it  was  to  be  read  in  Altrurian;  but  she  would 
come.  I  was  afraid  she  would  be  overwhelmed  bj  the 
public  compassion,  and  would  not  know  what  to  do; 
for  when  something  awful  that  the  sailor  had  said 
against  the  captain  was  translated  the  women  all  about 
us  cooed  their  sympathy  with  her,  and  pressed  her  hand 
if  they  could,  or  patted  her  on  the  shoulder,  to  show 
how  much  they  pitied  her.  In  Altruria  they  pity  the 
friends  of  those  who  have  done  wrong,  and  sometimes 
even  the  wrong-doers  themselves ;  and  it  is  quite  a  lux- 
ury, for  there  is  so  little  wrong-doing  here :  I  tell  them 
that  in  America  they  would  have  as  much  pitying  to 
do  as  they  could  possibly  ask.  After  the  hearing  that 
day  my  friends,  who  were  of  a  good  many  different 
Refectories,  as  we  call  them  here,  wanted  her  to  go  and 
lunch  wath  them ;  but  I  got  her  quietly  home  with  me, 
and  after  she  had  had  something  to  eat  I  made  her  lie 
down  awhile. 

You  won't  care  to  have  me  go  fully  into  the  affair. 
The  sailors'  spokesman  told  how  he  had  been  born  on  a 
farm,  w^here  he  had  shared  the  family  drudgery  and 
poverty  till  he  grew  old  enough  to  run  away.  He 
meant  to  go  to  sea,  but  he  went  first  to  a  factory  town 
and  worked  three  or  four  years  in  the  mills.  He  never 
went  back  to  the  farm,  but  he  sent  a  little  money 
now  and  then  to  his  mother;  and  he  stayed  on  till  he 
got  into  trouble.  He  did  not  say  just  what  kind  of 
trouble,  but  I  fancied  it  was  some  sort  of  love-trouble; 
he  blamed  himself  for  it;  and  when  he  left  that  town 
to  get  away  from  the  thought  of  it,  as  much  as  any- 
thing, and  went  to  work  in  another  town,  he  took  to 
drink ;  then,  once,  in  a  drunken  spree,  he  found  himself 
in  ISTew  York  without  knowing  how.  But  it  was  in 
what  he  called  a  sailors'  boarding-house,  and  one  morn- 
ing, after  he  had  been  drinking  overnight  "  with  a  very 
"  143 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

pleasant  gentleman,"  he  found  himself  in  the  forecastle 
of  a  ship  bovmd  for  Holland,  and  when  the  mate  came 
and  cursed  him  up  and  cursed  him  out  he  found  himself 
in  the  foretop.  I  give  it  partly  in  his  own  language, 
because  I  cannot  help  it ;  and  I  only  wish  I  could  give 
it  wholly  in  his  language ;  it  was  so  graphic  and  so  full 
of  queer  Yankee  humor.  From  that  time  on,  he  said, 
he  had  followed  the  sea;  and  at  sea  he  was  always  a 
good  temperance  man,  but  Altruria  was  the  only  place 
he  had  ever  kept  sober  ashore.  He  guessed  that  was 
partly  because  there  was  nothing  to  drink  but  unfer- 
mented  grape-juice,  and  partly  because  there  w^as  no- 
body to  drink  vnth;  anyhow,  he  had  not  had  a  drop 
here.  Every^vhere  else,  as  soon  as  he  left  his  ship,  he 
made  for  a  sailors'  boarding-house,  and  then  he  did  not 
know  much  till  he  found  himself  aboard  ship  and  bound 
for  somewhere  that  he  did  not  know  of.  He  was  always, 
he  said,  a  stolen  man,  as  much  as  a  negro  captured  on 
the  west  coast  of  Africa  and  sold  to  a  slaver;  and,  he 
said,  it  was  a  slave's  life  he  led  between  drinks,  whether 
it  was  a  long  time  or  short.  He  said  he  would  ask  his 
mates  if  it  was  very  different  with  them,  and  when  he 
turned  to  them  they  all  shouted  back,  in  their  various 
kinds  of  foreign  accents,  ISTo,  it  was  just  the  same  with 
them,  every  one.  Then  he  said  that  was  how  he  came 
to  ship  on  our  captain's  vessel,  and  though  they  could 
not  all  say  the  same,  they  nodded  confirmation  as  far 
as  he  was  concerned. 

The  captain  looked  sheepish  enough  at  this,  but  he 
looked  sorrowful,  too,  as  if  he  could  have  wished  it  had 
been  different,  and  he  asked  the  man  if  he  had  been 
abused  since  he  came  on  board.  Well,  the  man  said, 
not  unless  you  called  tainted  salt-horse  and  weevilly 
biscuit  abuse ;  and  then  the  captain  sat  down  again,  and 
I  could  feel  his  poor  wife  shrinking  beside  me.     The 

144 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

man  said  that  he  was  comparatively  well  off  on  the  cap- 
tain's ship,  and  the  life  was  not  half  such  a  dog's  life 
as  he  had  led  on  other  vessels;  but  it  was  such  that 
when  he  got  ashore  here  in  Altruria,   and  saw  how 
wliite  people  lived,  people  that  used  each  other  white, 
he  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  never  go  back  to 
any  ship  alive.     He  hated  a  ship  so  much  that  if  he 
could  go  home  to  America  as  a  first-class  passenger 
on  a  Cunard  liner,   John  D.   Eockefeller  would  not 
have  money  enough  to  hire  him  to  do  it.     He  was 
going  to  stay  in  Altruria  till  he  died,  if  they  would 
let  him,  and  he  guessed  they  would,  if  what  he  had 
heard  about  them  was  true.     He  just  wanted,  he  said, 
while  we  were  about  it,  to  have  a  few  of  his  mates  tell 
their   experience,   not   so  much   on   board   the   Little 
Sally,  but  on  shore,  and  since  they  could  remember; 
and  one  after  another  did  get  up  and  tell  their  miser- 
able stories.     They  were  like  the  stories  you  sometimes 
read  in  your  paper  over  your  coffee,  or  that  you  can 
hear  any  time  you  go  into  the  congested  districts  in 
ISTew  York;  but  I  assure  you,  my  dear,  they  seemed 
to  me  perfectly  incredible  here,  though  I  had  kno^vn 
hundreds  of  such  stories  at  home.    As  I  realized  their 
facts  I  forgot  where  I  was;  I  felt  that  I  was  back 
again  in  that  horror,  where  it  sometimes  seemed  to  me 
I  had  no  right  to  be  fed  or  clothed  or  warm  or  clean 
in  the  midst  of  the  hunger  and  cold  and  nakedness  and 
dirt,  and  where  I  could  only  reconcile  myself  to  my 
comfort  because  I  knew  my  discomfort  would  not  help 
others'  misery. 

I  can  hardly  tell  how,  but  even  the  first  day  a 
sense  of  something  terrible  spread  through  that  mul- 
titude of  people,  to  whom  the  words  themselves  were 
mere  empty  sounds.  The  captain  sat  through  it, 
with    his    head    drooping,    till    his    face    was    out   of 

145 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

sight,  and  the  tears  ran  silently  do^vn  his  wife's 
cheeks ;  and  the  women  round  me  were  somehow  awed 
into  silence.  When  the  men  ended,  and  there  seemed 
to  be  no  one  else  to  say  anything  on  that  side,  the 
captain  jumped  to  his  feet,  with  a  sort  of  ferocious 
energy,  and  shouted  out,  "  Are  you  all  through,  men  ?" 
and  their  spokesman  answered,  "  Aj,  ay,  sir  I"  and 
then  the  captain  flung  back  his  grizzled  hair  and  shook 
his  fist  toAvards  the  sailors.  "  And  do  you  think  I 
wanted  to  do  it  ?  Do  you  think  I  liked  to  do  it  ?  Do 
you  think  that  if  I  hadn't  been  afraid  my  whole  life 
long  I  would  have  had  the  lieart  to  lead  you  the  dog's 
life  I  know  I've  led  you?  I've  been  as  poor  as  the 
poorest  of  you,  and  as  low  down  as  the  lowest;  I  was 
born  in  the  town  poor-house,  and  I've  been  so  afraid 
of  the  poor-house  all  my  days  that  I  hain't  had,  as  you 
may  say,  a  minute's  peace.  Ask  my  wife,  there,  what  sort 
of  a  man  I  am,  and  whether  I'm  the  man,  really  the 
man  that's  been  hard  and  mean  to  you  the  way  I  know 
I  been.  It  w^as  because  I  "was  afraid,  and  because  a 
coward  is  always  hard  and  mean.  I  been  afraid,  ever 
since  I  could  remember  anything,  of  coming  to  want, 
and  I  was  willing  to  see  other  men  suffer  so  I  could 
make  sure  that  me  and  mine  shouldn't  suffer.  That's 
the  way  we  do  at  home,  ain't  it  ?  That's  in  the  day's 
work,  ain't  it?  That's  playing  the  game,  ain't  it,  for 
everybody  ?  You  can't  say  it  ain't."  He  stopped,  and 
the  men's  spokesman  called  back,  "  Ay,  ay,  sir,"  as  he 
had  done  before,  and  as  I  had  often  heard  the  men  do 
when  given  an  order  on  the  ship. 

The  captain  gave  a  kind  of  sobbing  laugh,  and  went 
on  in  a  lower  tone.  "  Well,  I  know  you  ain't  going 
back.  I  guess  I  didn't  expect  it  much  from  the  start, 
and  I  giiess  I'm  not  surprised."  Then  he  lifted  his 
head  and  shouted,  "  And  do  you  suppose  I  want  to  go 

146 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

back?  Don't  you  suppose  I  would  like  to  spend  the 
rest  of  my  days,  too,  among  white  people,  people  that 
use  each  other  white,  as  you  say,  and  where  there  ain't 
any  want  or,  what's  worse,  fear  of  want  ?  Men !  There 
ain't  a  day,  or  an  hour,  or  a  minute,  when  I  don't  think 
how  awful  it  is  over  there,  where  I  got  to  be  either  some 
man's  slave  or  some  man's  master,  as  much  so  as  if  it 
was  down  in  the  ship's  articles.  My  wife  ain't  so,  be- 
cause she  ain't  been  ashore  here.  I  wouldn't  let  her; 
I  was  afraid  to  let  her  see  what  a  white  man's  country 
really  was,  because  I  felt  so  weak  about  it  myself,  and 
I  didn't  want  to  put  the  trial  on  her,  too.  And  do  you 
know  wliy  we're  going  back,  or  want  to  go?  I  guess 
some  of  you  know,  but  I  want  to  tell  these  folks  here 
so  they'll  understand,  and  I  want  you,  Mr.  Homos,'* 
he  called  to  my  husband,  "  to  get  it  down  straight.  It's 
because  we've  got  two  little  children  over  there,  that 
we  left  with  their  grandmother  when  my  wife  come  with 
me  this  voyage  because  she  had  lung  difficulty  and 
wanted  to  see  whether  she  could  get  her  health  back. 
Nothing  else  on  God's  green  earth  could  take  me  back 
to  America,  and  I  guess  it  couldn't  my  wife  if  she  knew 
what  Altruria  was  as  well  as  I  do.  But  when  I  went 
around  here  and  saw  how  everything  was,  and  remem- 
bered how  it  was  at  home,  I  just  said,  '  She'll  stay  on 
the  ship.'  Kow,  that's  all  I  got  to  say,  though  I  thought 
I  had  a  lot  more.  I  guess  it  '11  be  enough  for  these 
folks,  and  they  can  judge  between  us."  Then  the  cap- 
tain sat  down,  and  to  make  a  long  story  short,  the  facts 
of  the  hearing  were  repeated  in  Altrurian  the  next  day 
by  megaphone,  and  when  the  translation  was  finished 
there  was  a  general  rush  for  the  captain.  He  plainly 
expected  to  be  lynched,  and  his  wife  screamed  out,  "  Oh, 
don't  hurt  him !  He  isn't  a  bad  man !"  But  it  was 
only  the  Altrurian  way  with  a  guilty  person:  they 

147 


TIIKOUGH  THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

wanted  to  let  him  know  how  sorry  they  were  for  hirn, 
and  since  his  sin  had  found  him  out  how  hopeful  they 
were  for  his  redemption.  I  had  to  explain  it  to  the 
sailors  as  well  as  to  the  captain  and  his  wife,  but  I  don't 
believe  any  of  them  quite  accepted  the  fact. 

The  third  day  of  the  hearing  was  for  the  rendering 
of  the  decision,  first  in  Altrurian,  and  then  in  English. 
The  verdict  of  the  magistrates  had  to  be  confirmed 
by  a  standing  vote  of  the  people,  and  of  course  the 
women  voted  as  well  as  the  men.  The  decision  was 
that  the  sailors  should  be  absolutely  free  to  go  or  stay, 
but  they  took  into  account  the  fact  that  it  would  be 
cruel  to  keej)  the  captain  and  his  wife  away  from 
their  little  ones,  and  the  sailors  might  wish  to  consider 
this.  If  they  still  remained  true  to  their  love  of  Al- 
truria  they  could  find  some  means  of  returning. 

When  the  translator  came  to  this  point  their  spokes- 
man jumped  to  his  feet  and  called  out  to  the  captain, 
"Will  you  do  it?"  "Do  what?"  he  asked,  getting 
slowly  to  his  own  feet.  "  Come  back  with  us  after  you 
have  seen  the  kids?"  The  captain  shook  his  fist  at 
the  sailors;  it  seemed  to  be  the  only  gesture  he  had 
with  them.  "  Give  me  the  chance !  All  I  want  is  to 
see  the  children  and  bring  them  out  with  me  to  Al- 
truria,  and  the  old  *  folks  with  them."  "  Will  you 
^wear  it  ?  Will  you  say,  '  I  hope  I  may  find  the  kids 
dead  and  buried  when  I  get  home  if  I  don't  do  it '  ?" 
"  I'll  take  that  oath,  or  any  oath  you  want  me  to." 
"  Shake  hands  on  it,  then," 

The  two  men  met  in  front  of  the  tribunal  and  clasped 
hands  there,  and  their  reconciliation  did  not  need  trans- 
lation. Such  a  roar  of  cheers  went  up !  And  then  the 
whole  assembly  burst  out  in  the  national  Altrurian  an- 
them, "Brothers  All."  I  wish  you  could  have  heard  it! 
But  when  the  terms  of  the  agTeement  were  explained, 

148 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

« 

the  cheering  that  had  gone  before  was  a  mere  whisper 
to  what  followed.  One  orator  after  another  rose  and 
praised  the  self-sacrifice  of  the  sailors.  I  was  the 
proudest  when  the  last  of  them  referred  to  Aristides  and 
tlie  reports  which  he  had  sent  home  from  America,  and 
said  that  without  some  such  study  as  he  had  made  of 
the  American  character  they  never  could  have  under- 
stood such  an  act  as  they  were  now  witnessing.  Illog- 
ical and  insensate  as  their  system  was,  their  char- 
acter sometimes  had  a  beauty,  a  sublimity  which; 
was  not  possible  to  Altrurians  even,  for  it  was  per-i 
formed  in  the  face  of  risks  and  chances  which  their 
happy  conditions  relieved  them  from.  At  the  same 
time,  the  orator  wished  his  hearers  to  consider  the 
essential  immorality  of  the  act.  He  said  that  civil- 
ized men  had  no  right  to  take  these  risks  and  chances. 
The  sailors  were  perhaps  justified,  in  so  far  as  they  were 
homeless,  wifeless,  and  childless  men;  but  it  must  not 
be  forgotten  that  their  heroism  was  like  the  reckless 
generosity  of  savages. 

The  men  have  gone  back  to  the  ship,  and  she  sails 
this  afternoon.  I  have  persuaded  the  captain  to  let 
his  wife  stay  to  lunch  with  me  at  our  Refectory,  where 
the  ladies  wish  to  bid  her  good-bye,  and  I  am  hurrying 
forward  this  letter  so  that  she  can  take  it  on  board 
with  her  this  afternoon.  She  has  promised  to  post 
it  on  the  first  Pacific  steamer  they  meet,  or  if  they  do 
not  meet  any  to  send  it  forward  to  you  with  a  special- 
delivery  stamp  as  soon  as  they  reach  Eoston.  She  will 
also  forward  by  express  an  Altrurian  costume,  such 
as  I  am  now  wearing,  sandals  and  all !  Do  put  it  on, 
Dolly,  dear,  for  my  sake,  and  realize  what  it  is  for 
once  in  your  life  to  be  a  free  woman. 

Heaven  knows  when  I  shall  have  another  chance  of 
getting  letters  to  you.    But  T  shall  live  in  hopes,  and  I 

149 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

sliall  set  down  my  experiences  here  for  your  benefit,  not 
perhaps  as  I  meet  them,  but  as  I  think  of  them,  and 
you  must  not  mind  having  a  rather  cluttered  narrative. 
To-morrow  we  are  setting  off  on  our  round  of  the  cap- 
itals, where  Aristides  is  to  make  a  sort  of  public  report 
to  the  people  of  the  different  Regions  on  the  working  of 
the  capitalistic  conditions  as  he  observed  them  among 
us.  But  I  don't  expect  to  send  you  a  continuous  nar- 
rative of  our  adventures.  Good-bye,  dearest,  with  my 
mother's  love,  and  my  husband's  as  well  as  my  own,  to 
both  of  5'ou;  think  of  me  as  needing  nothing  but  a 
glimpse  of  you  to  complete  my  happiness.  How  I 
should  like  to  tell  you  fully  about  it !  You  must  come 
to  Altruria! 

I  came  near  letting  this  go  without  telling  you  of  one 
curious  incident  of  the  affair  between  the  captain  and 
his  men.  Before  the  men  returned  to  the  ship  they 
came  with  their  spokesman  to  say  good-bye  to  Aristides 
and  me,  and  he  remarked  casually  that  it  was  just  as 
well,  maybe,  to  be  going  back,  because,  for  one  thing, 
they  would  know  then  whether  it  was  real  or  not.  I 
asked  him  what  he  meant,  and  he  said,  "  Well,  you 
know,  some  of  the  mates  think  it's  a  dream  here,  or  it's 
too  good  to  be  true.  As  far  forth  as  I  go,  I'd  be  willing 
to  have  it  a  dream  that  I  didn't  ever  have  to  wake  up 
from.  It  ain't  any  too  good  to  be  true  for  me.  Any- 
way, I'm  going  to  get  back  somehow,  and  give  it  another 
chance  to  be  a  fact."  Wasn't  that  charming  ?  It  had 
a  real  touch  of  poetry  in  it,  but  it  was  prose  that  fol- 
lowed. I  couldn't  help  asking  him  Avhether  there  had 
been  nothing  to  mar  the  pleasure  of  their  stay  in  Altru- 
ria, and  he  answered :  "  Well,  I  don't  know  as  you  could 
rightly  say  mar;  it  hadn't  ought  to  have.  You  see,  it 
was  like  this.     You  see,  some  of  the  mates  wanted  to 

150 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

lay  off  and  have  a  regular  bange,  but  that  don't  seem  to 
be  the  idea  here.  After  we  had  been  ashore  a  day  or 
two  they  set  us  to  work  at  different  jobs,  or  wanted  to. 
The  mates  didn't  take  hold  very  lively,  and  some  of  'em 
didn't  take  hold  a  bit.  But  after  that  went  on  a  couple 
of  days,  there  wa'n't  any  breakfast  one  morning,  and 
come  noontime  there  wa'n't  any  dinner,  and  as  far 
forth  as  they  could  make  out  they  had  to  go  to  bed 
without  supper.  Then  they  called  a  halt,  and  tackled 
one  of  your  head  men  here  that  could  speak  some  Eng- 
lish. He  didn't  answer  them  right  off  the  reel,  but  he 
got  out  his  English  Testament  and  he  read  'em  a  verse 
that  said,  ^  Eor  even  when  we  were  with  you  this  we 
commanded  you,  that  if  any  one  would  not  work  neither 
should  he  eat.'  That  kind  of  fetched  'em,  and  after 
that  there  wa'n't  any  sojerin',  well  not  to  speak  of. 
They  saw  he  meant  business.  I  guess  it  did  more  than 
any  one  thing  to  make  'em  think  they  wa'n't  dreamin'." 


IV 


You  must  not  think,  Dollj,  from  anything  I  have 
been  telling  you  that  the  Altriirians  are  ever  harsh. 
Sometimes  they  cannot  realize  how  things  really  are 
with  ns,  and  how  what  seems  grotesque  and  hideous  to 
them  seems  charming  and  beautiful,  or  at  least  chic,  to 
us.  But  they  are  wonderfully  quick  to  see  when  they 
have  hurt  you  the  least,  and  in  the  little  sacrifices  I  have 
made  of  my  wardrobe  to  the  cause  of  general  knowledge 
there  has  not  been  the  least  urgence  from  them.  When 
I  now  look  at  the  things  I  used  to  wear,  where  they 
have  been  finally  placed  in  the  ethnological  depart- 
ment of  the  Museum,  along  with  the  Esquimau  kyaks 
and  the  Thlinkeet  totems,  they  seem  like  things  I  wore 
in  some  prehistoric  age — 

"  When  wild  in  woods  the  noble  savage  ran." 

iNow,  am  I  being  unkind?  Well,  you  mustn't  mind 
me,  Dolly.  You  must  just  say,  "  She  lias  got  it  bad," 
and  go  on  and  learn  as  much  about  Altruria  as  you  can 
from  me.  Some  of  the  things  were  hard  to  get  used  to, 
and  at  first  seemed  quite  impossible.  For  one  thing, 
there  was  the  matter  of  service,  which  is  dishonorable 
with  us,  and  honorable  with  the  Altrurians:  I  was  a 
long  time  getting  to  understand  that,  though  I  knew  it 
perfectly  well  from  hearing  my  husband  talk  about  it 
in  'New  York.     I  believe  he  once  came  pretty  near 

152 


THROUGH   THE   EYE    OF   THE   NEEDLE 

offending  jou  by  asking  why  you  did  not  do  your  o^vn 
work,  or  something  like  that ;  he  has  confessed  as  much, 
and  I  could  not  wonder  at  you  in  your  conditions. 
Why,  when  we  first  went  to  the  guest-house,  and  the 
pretty  young  girls  who  brought  in  lunch  sat  down  at 
table  to  eat  it  with  us,  I  felt  the  indignation  making 
me  hot  all  over.  You  know  how  democratic  I  am,  and 
I  did  not  mind  those  great,  splendid  boat-girls  hugging 
and  kissing  me,  but  I  instinctively  drew  the  line  at 
cooks  and  waitresses.  In  I^ew  York,  you  know,  I  al- 
ways tried  to  be  kind  to  my  servants,  but  as  for  letting 
one  of  them  sit  down  in  my  presence,  much  less  sit  dowii 
at  table  with  me,  I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing  in  my 
most  democratic  moments.  Luckily  I  drew  the  line 
subjectively  here,  and  later  I  found  that  these  young 
ladies  were  daughters  of  some  of  the  most  distinguished 
men  and  women  on  the  continent,  though  you  must  not 
understand  distinction  as  giving  any  sort  of  social  pri- 
macy; that  sort  of  thing  is  not  allowed  in  Altruria. 
They  had  drawn  lots  with  the  girls  in  the  Eegionic 
school  here,  and  were  proud  of  having  won  the  honor 
of  waiting  on  us.  Of  course,  I  needn't  say  they  were 
what  we  would  have  felt  to  be  ladies  anywhere,  and 
their  manners  were  exquisite,  even  to  leaving  us  alone 
together  as  soon  as  we  had  finished  luncheon.  The  meal 
itself  was  something  I  shall  always  remember  for  its 
delicious  cooking  of  the  different  kinds  of  mushrooms 
which  took  the  place  of  meat,  and  the  wonderful  salads, 
and  the  temperate  and  tropical  fruits  which  we  had  for 
dessert. 

They  had  to  talk  mostly  with  my  husband,  of  course, 
and  when  they  did  talk  to  me  it  was  through  him.  They 
were  very  intelligent  about  our  world,  much  more  than 
we  are  about  Altruria,  though,  of  course,  it  was  by 
deduction  from  premises  rather  than  specific  informa- 

153 


THKOUGII  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

tion,  and  they  wanted  to  ask  a  thousand  questions ;  but 
they  saw  the  joke  of  it,  and  laughed  with  us  when 
Aristides  put  them  off  with  a  promise  that  if  they 
would  have  a  public  meeting  appointed  we  would  ap- 
pear and  answer  all  the  questions  anybody  could  think 
of;  we  were  not  going  to  waste  our  answers  on 
them  the  first  day.  He  wanted  them  to  let  us  go  out 
and  help  wash  the  dishes,  but  they  would  not  hear  of 
it.  I  confess  I  was  rather  glad  of  that,  for  it  seemed 
a  lower  depth  to  which  I  could  not  descend,  even  after 
eating  with  them.  But  they  invited  us  out  to  look  at 
the  kitchen,  after  they  had  got  it  in  order  a  little,  and 
when  we  joined  them  there,  whom  should  I  see  but 
my  own  dear  old  mother,  with  an  apron  up  to  her  chin, 
wiping  the  glass  and  watching  carefully  through  her 
dear  old  spectacles  that  she  got  everything  bright !  You 
know  she  was  of  a  simpler  day  than  ours,  and  when  she 
was  young  she  used  to  do  her  o^vn  work,  and  she  and 
my  father  always  washed  the  dishes  together  after  they 
had  company.  I  merely  said,  "  Well,  mother !"  and  she 
laughed  and  colored,  and  said  she  guessed  she  should 
(like  it  in  Altruria,  for  it  took  her  back  to  the  America 
j  she  used  to  know. 

I  must  mention  things  as  they  come  into  my  head, 
and  not  in  any  regular  order;  there  are  too  many  of 
them.  One  thing  is  that  I  did  not  notice  till  afterwards 
that  we  had  had  no  meat  that  first  day  at  luncheon — 
the  mushrooms  were  so  delicious,  and  you  know  I  never 
was  much  of  a  meat-eater.  It  was  not  till  we  began  to 
make  our  present  tour  of  the  Regionic  capitals,  where 
Aristides  has  had  to  repeat  his  account  of  American 
civilization  until  I  am  sick  as  well  as  ashamed  of 
America,  that  I  first  felt  a  kind  of  famine  which  I  kept 
myself  from  recognizing  as  long  as  I  could.  Then  I 
had  to  own  to  myself,  long  before  I  owned  it  to  him, 

154 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

that  I  was  hungry  for  meat — for  roast,  for  broiled,  for 
fried,  for  hashed.  I  did  not  actually  tell  him,  but  he 
found  it  out,  and  I  could  not  deny  it,  though  I  felt 
such  an  ogre  in  it.  He  was  terribly  grieved,  and  blamed 
himself  for  not  having  thought  of  it,  and  wished  he  had 
got  some  canned  meats  from  the  trader  before  she  left 
the  port.  He  was  really  in  despair,  for  nobody  since 
the  old  capitalistic  times  had  thought  of  killing  sheep 
or  cattle  for  food;  they  have  them  for  wool  and  milk 
and  butter ;  and  of  course  when  I  looked  at  them  in  the 
fields  it  did  seem  rather  formidable.  You  are  so  used 
to  seeing  them  in  the  butchers'  shops,  ready  for  the 
range,  that  you  never  think  of  what  they  have  to  go 
through  before  that.  But  at  last  I  managed  to  gasp 
out,  one  day,  "  If  I  could  only  have  a  chicken !" 
and  he  seemed  to  think  that  it  could  be  managed.  I 
don't  know  how  he  made  interest  with  the  authorities, 
or  how  the  authorities  prevailed  on  a  farmer  to  part 
with  one  of  his  precious  pullets ;  but  the  thing  was  done 
somehow,  and  two  of  the  farmer's  children  brought  it 
to  us  at  one  of  the  guest-houses  where  we  were  staying, 
and  then  fled  howling.  That  was  bad  enough,  but  what 
followed  was  worse.  I  went  another  day  on  mush- 
rooms before  I  had  the  heart  to  say  chicken  again  and 
suggest  that  Aristides  should  get  it  killed  and  dressed. 
The  poor  fellow  did  try,  I  believe,  but  we  had  to  fall 
back  upon  ourselves  for  the  murderous  deed,  and — 
Did  you  ever  see  a  chicken  have  its  head  cut  off,  and 
how  hideously  it  behaves  ?  It  made  us  both  wish  we 
were  dead ;  and  the  sacrifice  of  that  one  piUlet  was  quite 
enough  for  me.  We  buried  the  poor  thing  under  the 
flowers  of  the  guest-house  garden,  and  I  went  back  to 
my  mushrooms  after  a  visit  of  contrition  to  the  farmer 
and  many  attempts  to  bring  his  children  to  forgiveness. 
After  all,  the  Altrurian  mushrooms  are  wonderfully 

155 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

noil ri shine;,  and  they  arc  in  such  variety  that,  what  with 
other  succulent  vegetables  and  the  endless  range  of 
fruits  and  nuts,  one  does  not  wish  for  meat — meat  that 
one  has  killed  one's  self ! 


I  WISH  you  could  be  making  tour  of  the  Regionic 
capitals  with  us,  Dolly!  There  are  swift  little  one- 
rail  electric  expresses  running  daily  from  one  capital 
to  another,  but  these  are  used  only  when  speed  is  re- 
quired, and  we  are  confessedly  in  no  hurry:  Aristides 
wanted  me  to  see  as  much  of  the  country  as  possible, 
and  I  am  as  eager  as  he.  The  old  steam-roads  of  the 
capitalistic  epoch  have  been  disused  for  generations, 
and  their  beds  are  now  the  country  roads,  which  are 
everywhere  kept  in  beautiful  repair.  There  are  no 
horse  vehicles  (the  electric  motors  are  employed  in  the 
towns),  though  some  people  travel  on  horseback,  but 
the  favorite  means  of  conveyance  is  by  electric  van, 
which  any  citizen  may  have  on  proof  of  his  need  of  it ; 
and  it  is  comfortable  beyond  compare  —  mounted  on 
easy  springs,  and  curtained  and  cushioned  like  those 
gypsy  vans  we  see  in  the  country  at  home.  Aristides 
drives  himself,  and  sometimes  we  both  get  out  and 
walk,  for  there  is  plenty  of  time. 

I  don't  know  whether  I  can  make  you  understand 
how  everything  has  tended  to  simplification  here. 
They  have  disused  the  complicated  facilities  and  con- 
veniences of  the  capitalistic  epoch,  which  we  are  so 
proud  of,  and  have  got  back  as  close  as  possible  to 
nature.  People  stay  at  home  a  great  deal  more  than 
with  us,  though  if  any  one  likes  to  make  a  journey  or 
to  visit  the  capitals  he  is  quite  free  to  do  it,  and  those 
who  have  some  liseful  or  beautiful  object  in  view  make 

157 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

the  sacrifice,  as  they  feel  it,  to  leave  their  villages  every 
day  and  go  to  the  nearest  capital  to  carry  on  their 
studies  or  experiments.  What  we  consider  modern  con- 
veniences they  would  consider  a  superfluity  of  naugh- 
tiness for  the  most  part.  As  luorh  is  the  ideal,  they  do 
not  believe  in  what  we  call  labor-saving  devices. 

When  we  approach  a  village  on  our  journey,  one 
of  the  villagers,  sometimes  a  young  man,  and  some- 
times a  girl,  comes  out  to  meet  us,  and  when  we  pass 
through  they  send  some  one  with  us  on  the  way  a 
little.  The  people  have  a  perfect  inspiration  for  hos- 
pitality :  they  not  only  know  when  to  do  and  how  much 
to  do,  but  how  little  and  when  not  at  all.  I  can't  re- 
member that  we  have  ever  once  been  bored  by  those 
nice  young  things  that  welcomed  us  or  speeded  us  on 
our  way,  and  w^hen  we  have  stopped  in  a  village  they 
have  shown  a  genius  for  leaving  us  alone,  after  the  first 
welcome,  that  is  beautiful.  They  are  so  regardful 
of  our  privacy,  in  fact,  that  if  it  had  not  been  for  Aris- 
tides,  who  explained  their  ideal  to  me,  I  should  have 
felt  neglected  sometimes,  and  should  have  been  shy  of 
letting  them  know  that  we  would  like  their  company. 
But  he  understood  it,  and  I  must  say  that  I  have  never 
enjoyed  people  and  their  ways  so  much.  Their  hos- 
pitality is  a  sort  of  compromise  between  that  of  the 
English  houses  where  you  are  left  free  at  certain 
houses  to  follow  your  ovm  devices  absolutely,  and  that 
Spanish  splendor  which  assures  you  that  the  host's 
house  is  yours  without  meaning  it.  In  fact,  the  guest- 
house, wherever  we  go,  is  ours,  for  it  belongs  to  the 
community,  and  it  is  absolutely  a  home  to  us  for  the 
time  being.  It  is  usually  the  best  house  in  the  village, 
the  prettiest  and  cosiest,  where  all  the  houses  are  so 
pretty  and  cosey.  There  is  always  another  building 
for  public  meetings,  called  the  temple,  which  is  the 

158 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

principal  edifice,  marble  and  classic  and  tasteful,  which 
we  see  almost  as  much  of  as  the  guest-house,  for  the 
news  of  the  Emissary's  return  has  preceded  him,  and 
everybody  is  alive  with  curiosity,  and  he  has  to  stand 
and  deliver  in  the  village  temples  everywhere.  Of 
course  I  am  the  great  attraction,  and  after  being  scared 
by  it  at  first  I  have  rather  got  to  like  it ;  the  people  are 
so  kind,  and  unaffected,  and  really  delicate. 

You  mustn't  get  the  notion  that  the  Altrurians  are  a 
solemn  people  at  all ;  they  are  rather  gay,  and  they  like 
other  people's  jokes  as  well  as  their  own;  I  am  sure 
Mr.  Makely,  with  his  sense  of  humor,  would  be  at  home 
with  them  at  once.  The  one  thing  that  more  than  any 
other  has  helped  them  to  conceive  of  the  American 
situation  is  its  being  the  gigantic  joke  which  we  often 
feel  it  to  be ;  I  don't  know  but  it  appears  to  them  more 
grotesque  than  it  does  to  us  even.  At  first,  when  Aris- 
tides  would  explain  some  peculiarity  of  ours,  they 
would  receive  him  with  a  gale  of  laughing,  but  this 
might  change  into  cries  of  horror  and  pity  later.  One 
of  the  things  that  amused  and  then  revolted  them 
most  was  our  patriotism.  They  thought  it  the  drollest 
thing  in  the  world  that  men  should  be  willing  to  give 
their  own  lives  and  take  the  lives  of  other  men  for  the 
sake  of  a  country  which  assured  them  no  safety  from 
want,  and  did  not  even  assure  them  work,  and  in 
which  they  had  no  more  logical  interest  than  the 
country  they  were  going  to  fight.  They  could  under- 
stand how  a  rich  man  might  volunteer  for  one  of  our 
wars,  but  w^hen  they  were  told  that  most  of  our  volun- 
teers were  poor  men,  who  left  their  mothers  and  sisters, 
or  their  wives  and  children,  without  any  means  of  sup- 
port, except  their  meagre  pay,  they  were  quite  bewil- 
dered and  stopped  laughing,  as  if  the  thing  had  passed 
a  joke.     They  asked,   "  How  if  one  of  these  citizen 

159 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

soldiers  was  killed?"  and  they  seemed  to  suppose  that 
in  this  case  the  country  would  provide  for  his  family 
and  give  them  work,  or  if  the  children  were  too 
yoimg  would  support  them  at  the  puhlic  expense.  It 
made  me  creep  a  little  when  my  husband  answered 
that  the  family  of  a  crippled  or  invalided  soldier 
would  have  a  pension  of  eight  or  ten  or  fifteen  dollars 
a  month;  and  when  they  came  back  with  the  question 
why  the  citizens  of  such  a  country  should  love  it  enough 
to  die  for  it,  I  could  not  have  said  why  for  the  life  of 
me.  But  Aristides,  who  is  so  magnificently  generous, 
tried  to  give  them  a  notion  of  the  sublimity  which  is 
at  the  bottom  of  our  illogicality  and  which  adjusts  so 
many  apparently  hopeless  points  of  our  anomaly.  They 
asked  how  this  sublimity  differed  from  that  of  the 
savage  who  brings  in  his  game  and  makes  a  feast  for  the 
whole  tribe,  and  leaves  his  wife  and  children  without 
provision  against  future  want ;  but  Aristides  told  them 
that  there  were  essential  differences  between  the  Amer- 
icans and  savages,  which  arose  from  the  fact  that  the 
savage  condition  was  permanent  and  the  American 
conditions  were  unconsciously  provisional. 

They  are  quite  well  informed  about  our  life  in  some 
respects,  but  they  wished  to  hear  at  first  hand  whether 
certain  things  were  really  so  or  not.  For  instance,  they 
wanted  to  know  whether  people  were  allowed  to  marry 
and  bring  children  into  the  world  if  they  had  no  hopes 
of  supporting  them  or  educating  them,  or  whether  dis- 
eased people  were  allowed  to  become  parents.  In  Al- 
truria,  you  know,  the  families  are  generally  small,  only 
two  or  three  children  at  the  most,  so  that  the  parents 
can  devote  themselves  to  them  the  more  fully;  and  as 
there  is  no  fear  of  want  here,  the  state  interferes  only 
when  the  parents  are  manifestly  unfit  to  bring  the  little 
ones  up.     They  imagined  that  there  was  something  of 

160 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

tluit  kind  with  us,  but  when  they  heard  that  the  state 
interfered  in  the  family  only  when  the  children  were 
unruly,  and  then  it  punished  the  children  by  sending 
them  to  a  reform  school  and  disgracing  them  for  life, 
instead  of  holding  the  parents  accountable,  they  seemed 
to  think  that  it  was  one  of  the  most  anomalous  features 
of  our  great  anomaly.  Here,  when  the  father  and 
mother  are  always  quarrelling,  the  children  are  taken 
from  them,  and  the  pair  are  separated,  at  first  for  a 
time,  but  after  several  chances  for  reform  they  are 
parted  permanently. 

But  I  must  not  give  you  the  notion  that  all  our  con- 
ferences are  so  serious.  Many  have  merely  the  char- 
acter of  social  entertainments,  which  are  not  made  here 
for  invited  guests,  but  for  any  who  choose  to  come; 
all  are  welcome.  At  these  there  are  often  plays  given 
by  amateurs,  and  improvised  from  plots  which  supply 
the  outline,  while  the  performers  supply  the  dialogue 
and  action,  as  in  the  old  Italian  comedies.  The  Al- 
trurians  are  so  quick  and  fine,  in  fact,  that  they  often 
remind  me  of  the  Italians  more  than  any  other  people. 
One  night  there  was  for  my  benefit  an  American  play, 
as  the  Altrurians  imagined  it  from  what  they  had  read 
about  us,  and  they  had  costumed  it  from  the  pictures  of 
us  they  had  seen  in  the  newspapers  Aristides  had  sent 
home  while  he  was  with  us.  The  effect  was  a  good  deal 
like  that  American  play  which  the  Japanese  company 
of  Sada  Yacco  gave  while  it  was  in  K^ew  York.  It  was  all 
about  a  millionaire's  daughter,  who  was  loved  by  a  poor 
young  man  and  escaped  with  him  to  Altruria  in  an 
open  boat  from  'New  York.  The  millionaire  could  be 
distinctly  recognized  by  the  dollar-marks  which  covered 
him  all  over,  as  they  do  in  the  caricatures  of  rich  men 
in  our  yellow  journals.  It  was  funny  to  the  last  degree. 
In  the  last  act  he  was  seen  giving  his  millions  away  to 

IGl 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

poor  people,  whose  multitude  was  represented  by  tlie 
continually  coming  and  going  of  four  or  five  performers 
in  and  out  of  the  door,  in  outrageously  ragged  clothes. 
The  Altrurians  have  not  yet  imagined  the  nice  de- 
grees of  poverty  which  we  have  achieved,  and  they  could 
not  have  understood  that  a  man  with  a  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  would  have  seemed  poor  to  that  multi- 
millionaire. In  fact,  they  do  not  grasp  the  idea  of 
money  at  all.  I  heard  afterwards  that  in  the  usual 
version  the  millionaire  commits  suicide  in  despair,  but 
the  piece  had  been  given  a  happy  ending  out  of  kindness 
to  me.  I  must  say  that  in  spite  of  the  monstrous  mis- 
conception the  acting  was  extremely  good,  especially 
that  of  some  comic  characters. 

But  dancing  is  the  great  national  amusement  in  Al- 
truria,  where  it  has  not  altogether  lost  its  religious  nat- 
ure. A  sort  of  march  in  the  temples  is  as  much  a  part 
of  the  worship  as  singing,  and  so  dancing  has  been  pre- 
served from  the  disgrace  which  it  used  to  be  in  with  se- 
rious people  among  us.  In  the  lovely  afternoons  you  see 
young  people  dancing  in  the  meadows,  and  hear  them 
shouting  in  time  to  the  music,  while  the  older  men  and 
women  watch  them  from  their  seats  in  the  shade. 
Every  sort  of  pleasure  here  is  improvised,  and  as  you 
pass~through  a  village  the  first  thing  you  know  the 
young  girls  and  young  men  start  up  in  a  sort  of  giran- 
dole, and  linking  hands  in  an  endless  chain  stretch  the 
figure  along  through  the  street  and  out  over  the  high- 
way to  the  next  village,  and  the  next  and  the  next.  The 
work  has  all  been  done  in  the  forenoon,  and  every  one 
who  chooses  is  at  liberty  to  join  in  the  fun. 

The  villages  are  a  good  deal  alike  to  a  stranger,  and 
we  knew  what  to  expect  there  after  a  while,  but  the 
country  is  perpetually  varied,  and  the  unexpected  is 
always  happening  in  it.     The  old  railroad  -  beds,  on 

162 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OE   THE   NEEDLE 

which  we  travelled,  are  planted  with  fruit  and  nut  trees 
and  flowering  shrubs,  and  our  progress  is  through  a 
fragrant  bower  that  is  practically  endless,  except  where 
it  takes  the  shape  of  a  colonnade  near  the  entrance  of 
a  village,  with  vines  trained  about  white  pillars,  and 
clusters  of  grapes  (which  are  ripening  just  now)  hang- 
ing down.  The  change  in  the  climate  created  by  cut- 
ting off  the  southeastern  peninsula  and  letting  in  the 
equatorial  current,  which  was  begun  under  the  first 
Altrurian  president,  with  an  unexpended  war-appro- 
priation, and  finished  for  what  one  of  the  old  capital- 
istic wars  used  to  cost,  is  something  perfectly  astonish- 
ing. Aristides  says  he  told  you  something  about  it  in 
his  speech  at  the  White  Mountains,  but  you  would  never 
believe  it  without  the  evidence  of  your  senses.  Whole 
regions  to  the  southward,  which  were  nearest  the  pole 
and  were  sheeted  with  ice  and  snow,  with  the  tempera- 
ture and  vegetation  of  Labrador,  now  have  the  climate 
of  Italy;  and  the  mountains, which  used  to  bear  nothing 
but  glaciers,  are  covered  with  olive  orchards  and  plan- 
tations of  the  delicious  coffee  which  they  drink  here. 
Aristides  says  you  could  have  the  same  results  at  home 
— no !  in  the  United  States — by  cutting  off  the  western 
shore  of  Alaska  and  letting  in  the  Japanese  current; 
and  it  could  be  done  at  the  cost  of  any  average  war. 


VI 


But  I  must  not  get  away  from  my  personal  experi- 
ences in  these  international  statistics.  Sometimes,  when 
night  overtakes  lis,  we  stop  and  camp  beside  the  road, 
and  set  about  getting  our  supper  of  eggs  and  bread  and 
butter  and  cheese,  or  the  fruits  that  are  ripening  all 
round  us.  Since  my  experience  with  that  pullet  I  go 
meekly  mushrooming  in  the  fields  and  pastures;  and 
when  I  have  set  the  mushrooms  stewing  over  an  open 
fire,  Aristides  makes  the  coffee,  and  in  a  little  while  we 
have  a  banquet  fit  for  kings — or  for  the  poor  things  in 
every  grade  below  them  that  serve  kings,  political  or 
financial  or  industrial.  There  is  always  water,  for  it 
is  brought  down  from  the  snow-fields  of  the  mountains 
— there  is  not  much  rainfall — and  carried  in  little  con- 
crete channels  along  the  road-side  from  village  to  vil- 
lage, something  like  those  conduits  the  Italian  peasants 
use  to  bring  down  the  water  from  the  Maritime  Alps 
to  their  fields  and  orchards;  and  you  hear  the  soft 
gurgle  of  it  the  whole  night  long,  and  day  long,  too, 
whenever  you  stop.  After  supper  we  can  read  awhile 
by  our  electric  lamp  (we  tap  the  current  in  the  tele- 
phone wires  anywhere),  or  Aristides  sacrifices  himself 
to  me  in  a  lesson  of  Altrurian  grammar.  Then  we 
creep  back  into  our  van  and  fall  asleep  with  the 
Southern  Cross  glittering  over  our  heads.  It  is  per- 
fectly safe,  though  it  was  a  long  time  before  I  could 
imagine  the  perfect  safety  of  it.  In  a  country  where 
there  are  no  thieves,  because  a  thief  here  would  not 

164 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

know  wliat  to  do  with  his  booty,  we  are  secure 
from  human  molestation,  and  the  land  has  long  been 
cleared  of  all  sorts  of  wild  beasts,  without  being  un- 
pleasantly tamed.  It  is  like  England  in  that,  and 
yet  it  has  a  touch  of  the  sylvan,  which  you  feel 
nowhere  as  you  do  in  our  dear  ISTew  England  hill 
country.  There  was  one  night,  however,  when  we  were 
lured  on  and  on,  and  did  not  stop  to  camp  till  fairly 
in  the  dusk.  Then  we  went  to  sleep  without  supper, 
for  we  had  had  father  a  late  lunch  and  were  not  hungry, 
and  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  was  awakened 
by  voices  speaking  Altrurian  together.  I  recognized 
my  husband's  voice,  which  is  always  so  kind,  but  which 
seemed  to  have  a  peculiarly  tender  and  compassionate 
note  in  it  now.  The  other  was  lower  and  of  a  sadness 
which  wrung  my  heart,  though  I  did  not  know  in  the 
least  what  the  person  was  saying.  The  talk  went  on  a 
long  time,  at  first  about  some  matter  of  immediate  in- 
terest, as  I  fancied,  and  then  apparently  it  branched  off 
on  some  topic  which  seemed  to  concern  the  stranger, 
whoever  he  was.  Then  it  seemed  to  get  more  indis- 
tinct, as  if  the  stranger  were  leaving  us  and  Aristides 
were  going  a  little  way  with  him.  Presently  I  heard 
him  coming  back,  and  he  put  his  head  in  at  the  van 
curtains,  as  if  to  see  whether  I  was  asleep. 

"  Well  ?"  I  said,  and  he  said  how  sorry  he  was  for 
having  waked  me.  "  Oh,  I  don't  mind,"  I  said. 
"  Whom  were  you  talking  with  ?  He  had  the  saddest 
voice  I  ever  heard.     What  did  he  want?" 

"  Oh,  it  seems  that  we  are  not  far  from  the  ruins 
of  one  of  the  old  capitalistic  cities,  which  have  been 
left  for  a  sort  of  warning  against  the  former  conditions, 
and  he  wished  to  caution  us  against  the  malarial  in- 
fluences from  it.  I  think  perhaps  we  had  better  push 
on  a  little  way,  if  you  don't  mind." 

165 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OE  THE  NEEDLE 

The  moon  was  sbining  clearly,  and  of  course  I  did 
not  mind,  and  Aristides  got  his  hand  on  the  lever,  and 
we  were  soon  getting  out  of  the  dangerons  zone.  "  I 
think,"  he  said,  "  they  ought  to  abolish  that  pest-hole. 
I  doubt  if  it  serves  any  good  purpose,  now,  though  it 
has  been  useful  in  times  past  as  an  object-lesson." 

"  But  who  was  your  unknown  friend  ?"  I  asked,  a 
gi'eat  deal  more  curious  about  him  than  about  the 
capitalistic  ruin. 

"  Oh,  just  a  poor  murderer,"  he  answered  easily, 
and  I  shuddered  back : 

"  A  murderer !" 

"  Yes.  He  killed  his  friend  some  fifteen  years  ago 
in  a  jealous  rage,  and  he  is  pursued  by  remorse  that 
gives  him  no  peace." 

"  And  is  the  remorse  his  only  punishment  V  I  asked, 
rather  indignantly. 

"  Isn't  that  enough  ?  God  seemed  to  think  it  was, 
in  the  case  of  the  first  murderer,  who  killed  his 
brother.  All  that  he  did  to  Cain  was  to  set  a  mark  on 
him.  But  we  have  not  felt  sure  that  we  have  the  right 
to  do  this.  AVe  let  God  mark  him,  and  He  has  done 
it  with  this  man  in  the  sorrow  of  his  face.  I  was  rather 
glad  you  couldn't  see  him,  my  dear.  It  is  an  awful 
face." 

I  confess  that  this  sounded  like  mere  sentimental- 
ism  to  me,  and  I  said,  "Really,  Aristides,  I  can't 
follow  you.  How  are  innocent  people  to  be  protected 
against  this  wretch,  if  he  wanders  about  among  them 
at  will?" 

"  They  are  as  safe  from  him  as  from  any  other  man 
in  Altruria.  His  case  was  carefully  looked  into  by  the 
medical  authorities,  and  it  was  decided  that  he  was  per- 
fectly sane,  so  that  he  could  be  safely  left  at  large,  to 
expiate  his  misdeed  in  the  only  possible  way  that  such 

IGG 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

a  misdeed  can  be  expiated — by  doing  good  to  others. 
What  would  you  have  had  us  do  with  him  ?" 

The  question  rather  staggered  me,  but  I  said,  "  He 
ought  to  have  been  imprisoned  at  least  a  year  for 
manslaughter." 

"  Cain  was  not  imprisoned  an  hour." 

"  That  was  a  very  different  thing.  But  suppose 
you  let  a  man  go  at  large  who  has  killed  his  friend 
in  a  jealous  rage,  what  do  you  do  with  other  mur- 
derers ?" 

"  In  Altruria  there  can  be  no  other  murderers.  Peo- 
ple cannot  kill  here  for  money,  which  prompts  every 
other  kind  of  murder  in  capitalistic  countries,  as  well 
as  every  other  kind  of  crime.  I  know,  my  dear,  that 
this  seems  very  strange  to  you,  but  you  will  accustom 
yourself  to  the  idea,  and  then  you  will  see  the  reason- 
ableness of  the  Altrurian  plan.  On  the  whole,  I  am 
sorry  you  could  not  have  seen  that  hapless  man,  and 
heard  him.    He  had  a  face  like  death — " 

"  And  a  voice  like  death,  too !"  I  put  in. 

"  You  noticed  that  ?  He  wanted  to  talk  about  his 
crime  with  me.  He  wants  to  talk  about  it  with  any 
one  who  will  listen  to  him.  He  is  consumed  with  an 
undying  pity  for  the  man  he  slew.  That  is  the  first 
thing,  the  only  thing,  in  his  mind.  If  he  could,  I 
believe  he  would  give  his  life  for  the  life  he  took  at 
any  moment.  But  you  cannot  recreate  one  life  by  de- 
stroying another.  There  is  no  human  means  of  ascer- 
taining justice,  but  we  can  always  do  mercy  with  divine 
omniscience."  As  he  spoke  the  sun  pierced  the  edge 
of  the  eastern  horizon,  and  lit  up  the  marble  walls  and 
roofs  of  the  Regionic  capital  which  we  wore  approach- 
ing. 

At  the  meeting  we  had  there  in  the  afternoon,  Aris- 
tides   reported   our  having  been   warned   against    our 

IGT 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

danger  in  the  iiiglit  by  that  murderer,  and  puLlic 
record  of  the  fact  was  made.  The  Altrurians  con- 
sider any  sort  of  punishment  which  is  not  expiation 
a  far  greater  sin  than  the  wrong  it  visits,  and  alto- 
gether barren  and  useless.  After  the  record  in  this  case 
had  been  made,  the  conference  naturally  turned  upon 
what  Aristides  had  seen  of  the  treatment  of  crimi- 
nals in  America,  and  when  he  told  of  our  prisons, 
where  people  merely  arrested  and  not  yet  openly  ac- 
cused are  kept,  I  did  not  know  which  way  to  look,  for 
you  know  I  am  still  an  American  at  heart,  Dolly.  Did 
you  ever  see  the  inside  of  one  of  our  police-stations 
at  night  ?  Or  smell  it  ?  I  did,  once,  when  I  went 
to  give  bail  for  a  wretched  girl  who  had  been  my 
servant,  and  had  gone  wrong,  but  had  been  arrested  for 
theft,  and  I  assure  you  that  the  sight  and  the  smell 
woke  me  in  the  night  for  a  month  afterwards,  and  I 
have  never  quite  ceased  to  dream  about  it. 

The  Altrurians  listened  in  silence,  and  I  hoped  they 
could  not  realize  the  facts,  though  the  story  was  every 
word  true;  but  what  seemed  to  make  them  the  most 
indignant  was  the  treatment  of  the  families  of  the 
prisoners  in  w^hat  we  call  our  penitentiaries  and  re- 
formatories. At  first  they  did  not  conceive  of  it,  appar- 
ently, because  it  was  so  stupidly  barbarous;  they  have 
no  patience  with  stupidity;  and  when  Aristides  had 
carefully  explained,  it  seemed  as  if  they  could  not  be- 
lieve it.  They  thought  it  right  that  the  convicts  should 
be  made  to  work,  but  they  could  not  understand  that 
the  state  really  took  away  their  wages,  and  left  their 
families  to  suffer  for  want  of  the  support  which  it  had 
deprived  them  of.  They  said  this  was  punishing  the 
mothers  and  sisters,  the  wives  and  children  of  the 
prisoners,  and  was  like  putting  out  the  eyes  of  an 
offender's  innocent  relatives  as  they  had  read  was  done 

168 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

in  Oriental  countries.  They  asked  if  there  was  never 
any  sort  of  protest  against  such  an  atrocious  perver- 
sion of  justice,  and  when  the  question  was  put  to  me 
I  was  obliged  to  own  that  I  had  never  heard  the  sys- 
tem even  criticised.  Perhaps  it  has  been,  but  I  spoke 
only  from  my  own  knowledge. 


VII 


Well,  to  get  away  from  these  dismal  experiences, 
and  come  back  to  our  travels,  with  their  perpetual 
noveltj,  and  the  constantly  varying  beauty  of  the  coun- 
try! 

The  human  interest  of  the  landscape,  that  is  always 
the  great  interest  of  it,  and  I  wish  I  could  make  you 
feel  it  as  I  have  felt  it  in  this  wonderful  journey 
of  ours.  It  is  like  the  'New  England  landscape  at 
times,  in  its  kind  of  gentle  wildness,  but  where  it  has 
been  taken  back  into  the  hand  of  man,  how  different 
the  human  interest  is!  Instead  of  a  rheumatic  old 
farmer,  in  his  clumsy  clothes,  with  some  of  his  gaunt 
girls  to  help  him,  or  perhaps  his  ageing  wife,  getting 
in  the  hay  of  one  of  those  sweet  meadows,  and  looking 
like  so  many  animated  scarecrows  at  their  work;  or  in- 
stead of  some  young  farmer,  on  the  seat  of  his  clatter- 
ing mower,  or  mounted  high  over  his  tedder,  but  as 
much  alone  as  if  there  were  no  one  else  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, silent  and  dull,  or  fierce  or  sullen,  as  the  case 
might  be,  the  work  is  always  going  on  with  companies 
of  mowers  or  reapers,  or  planters,  that  chatter  like 
birds  or  sing  like  them. 

It  is  no  use  my  exf)laining  again  and  again  that 
in  a  country  like  this,  where  everybody  works,  nobody 
over  works,  and  that  when  the  few  hours  of  obligatory 
labor  are  passed  in  the  mornings,  people  need  not  do 
anything  unless  they  choose.  Their  working  -  dresses 
are  very  simple,  but  in  all  sorts  of  gay  colors,  like 

170 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

those  you  saw  in  the  Greek  play  at  Harvard,  with 
straw  hats  for  the  men,  and  fillets  of  ribbon  for  the 
girls,  and  sandals  for  both.  I  speak  of  girls,  for 
most  of  the  married  women  are  at  home  gardening, 
or  about  the  household  work,  but  men  of  every  age 
work  in  the  fields.  The  earth  is  dear  to  them  be- 
cause they  get  their  life  from  it  by  labor  that  is  not 
slavery;  they  come  to  love  it  every  acre,  every  foot, 
because  they  have  known  it  from  childhood;  and 
I  have  seen  old  men,  very  old,  pottering  about  the 
orchards  and  meadows  during  the  liours  of  voluntary 
work,  and  trimming  them  up  here  and  there,  simply 
because  they  could  not  keep  away  from  the  place,  or 
keep  their  hands  off  the  trees  and  bushes.  Sometimes 
in  the  long,  tender  afternoons,  we  see  far  up  on  some 
pasture  slope,  groups  of  girls  scattered  about  on  the 
grass,  with  their  sewing,  or  listening  to  some  one  read- 
ing. Other  times  they  are  giving  a  little  play,  usually 
a  comedy,  for  life  is  so  happy  here  that  tragedy  would 
not  be  true  to  it,  with  the  characters  coming  and  going 
in  a  grove  of  small  pines,  for  the  coulisses,  and  using  a 
level  of  grass  for  the  stage.  If  we  stop,  one  of  the 
audience  comes  down  to  us  and  invites  us  to  come  up 
and  see  the  play,  which  keeps  on  in  spite  of  the  sensa- 
tion that  I  can  feel  I  make  among  them. 

Everywhere  the  news  of  us  has  gone  before  us,  and 
there  is  a  universal  curiosity  to  get  a  look  at  Aristides" 
capitalistic  wife,  as  they  call  me.  I  made  him  trans- 
late it,  and  he  explained  that  the  word  was  merely  de- 
scriptive and  not  characteristic;  some  people  distin- 
guished and  called  me  American.  There  was  one  place 
where  they  were  having  a  picnic  in  the  woods  up  a  hill- 
side, and  they  asked  us  to  join  them,  so  we  turned  our 
van  into  the  roadside  and  followed  the  procession.  It 
was  headed  by  two  old  men  plaving  on  j)ipes,  and  after 

171 


THEOITGII   THE   F.YE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

these  came  children  sing'ing',  and  then  all  sorts  of 
people,  young  and  old.  When  we  got  to  an  open  place 
in  the  woods,  where  there  was  a  spring,  and  smooth 
grass,  they  bnilt  fires,  and  began  to  get  ready  for  the 
feast,  while  some  of  them  did  things  to  amuse  the 
rest.  Every  one  could  do  something;  if  you  can  im- 
agine a  party  of  artists,  it  was  something  like  that. 
I  should  say  the  Altrurians  had  artists'  manners,  free, 
friendly,  and  easy,  with  a  dash  of  humor  in  every- 
thing, and  a  wonderful  willingness  to  laiTgh  and  make 
laugh.  Aristides  is  always  explaining  that  the  artist 
is  their  ideal  type ;  that  is,  some  one  who  works  gladly, 
and  plays  as  gladly  as  he  works ;  no  one  here  is  asked  to 
do  work  that  he  hates,  unless  he  seems  to  hate  every 
kind  of  work.  When  this  happens,  the  authorities 
find  out  something  for  him  that  he  had  hetter  like, 
by  letting  him  starve  till  he  works.  That  picnic  lasted 
the  whole  afternoon  and  well  into  the  night,  and  then 
the  picnickers  went  home  through  the  starlight,  lead- 
ing the  little  ones,  or  carrying  them  when  they  were 
too  little  or  too  tired.  But  first  they  came  down  to  our 
van  with  us,  and  sang  us  a  serenade  after  we  had  dis- 
appeared into  it,  and  then  left  us,  and  sent  their 
voices  back  to  us  out  of  the  dark. 

One  morning  at  dawn,  as  we  came  into  a  village,  we 
saw  nearly  the  whole  population  mounting  the  marble 
steps  of  the  temple,  all  the  holiday  dress  of  the  Volun- 
taries, which  they  put  on  here  every  afternoon  when  the 
work  is  done.  Last  of  the  throng  came  a  procession  of 
children,  looking  something  like  a  May-Day  party,  and 
midway  of  their  line  were  a  young  man  and  a  young 
girl,  hand  in  hand,  who  parted  at  the  door  of  the 
temple,  and  entered  separately.  Aristides  called  out, 
"  Oh,  it  is  a  wedding !  You  are  in  luck,  Eveleth,"  and 
then  and  there  I  saw  my  first  Altrurian  wedding. 

172 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

Within,  the  pillars  and  the  altar  and  the  seats  of  the 
elders  were  garlanded  with  flowers,  so  fresh  and  fra- 
grant that  they  seemed  to  have  blossomed  from  the 
marble  overnight,  and  there  was  a  soft  murmur  of  Al- 
trurian  voices  that  might  very  well  have  seemed  the 
hum  of  bees  among  the  blossoms.  This  subsided,  as  the 
young  couple,  who  had  paused  just  inside  the  temple 
door,  came  up  the  middle  side  by  side,  and  again  separ- 
ated and  took  their  places,  the  youth  on  the  extreme 
right  of  the  elder,  and  the  maiden  on  the  extreme  left 
of  the  eldresses,  and  stood  facing  the  congregation, 
which  was  also  on  foot,  and  joined  in  the  hymn  which 
everybody  sang.  Then  one  of  the  eldresses  rose  and 
began  a  sort  of  statement  which  Aristides  translated  to 
me  afterwards.  She  said  that  the  young  couple  whom 
we  saw  there  had  for  the  third  time  asked  to  be- 
come man  and  wife,  after  having  believed  for  a  year 
that  they  loved  each  other,  and  having  statedly  come 
before  the  marriage  authorities  and  been  questioned  as 
to  the  continuance  of  their  affection.  She  said  that 
probably  every  one  present  knew  that  they  had  been 
friends  from  childhood,  and  none  would  be  surprised 
that  they  now  wished  to  be  united  for  life.  They  had 
been  carefully  instructed  as  to  the  serious  nature  of 
the  marriage  bond,  and  admonished  as  to  the  duties 
they  were  entering  into,  not  only  to  each  other,  but 
to  the  community.  At  each  successive  visit  to  the 
authorities  they  had  been  warned,  separately  and 
together,  against  the  danger  of  trusting  to  anything 
like  a  romantic  impulse,  and  they  had  faithfully  en- 
deavored to  act  upon  this  advice,  as  they  testified.  In 
order  to  prove  the  reality  of  their  affection,  they  had 
been  parted  every  third  month,  and  had  lived  during 
that  time  in  different  Regions  where  it  was  meant  they 
should  meet  many  other  young  people,  so  that  if  they 

"lY3 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

felt  any  swerving  of  tlic  heart  they  might  not  persist 
in  an  intention  which  could  only  bring  them  final 
unhappiness.  It  seems  this  is  the  rule  in  the  case  of 
young  lovers,  and  people  usually  marry  very  young 
here,  but  if  they  wish  to  marry  later  in  life  the  rule  is 
not  enforced  so  stringently,  or  not  at  all.  The  bride 
and  gi'oom  we  saw  had  both  stood  these  trials,  and  at 
each  return  they  had  been  more  and  more  sure  that 
they  loved  each  otlier,  and  loved  no  one  else.  N^ow 
they  were  here  to  unite  their  hands,  and  to  declare  the 
union  of  their  hearts  before  the  people. 

Then  the  eldress  sat  do"\vn  and  an  elder  arose,  who 
bade  the  young  people  come  forward  to  the  centre  of 
the  line,  where  the  elders  and  eldresses  were  sitting. 
He  took  his  place  behind  them,  and  once  more  and  for 
the  last  time  he  conjured  them  not  to  persist  if  they 
felt  any  doubt  of  themselves.  He  warned  them  that 
if  they  entered  into  the  married  state,  and  afterwards 
repented  to  the  point  of  seeking  divorce,  the  divorce 
would  indeed  be  granted  them,  but  on  terms,  as  they 
must  realize,  of  lasting  grief  to  themselves  through  the 
offence  they  would  commit  against  the  commonwealth. 
They  answered  that  they  were  sure  of  themselves,  and 
ready  to  exchange  their  troth  for  life  and  death.  Then 
they  joined  hands,  and  declared  that  they  took  each 
other  for  husband  and  wife.  The  congregation  broke 
into  another  hymn  and  slowly  dispersed,  leaving  the 
bride  and  groom  with  their  families,  who  came  up  to 
them  and  embraced  them,  pressing  their  cheeks  against 
the  cheeks  of  the  young  pair. 

This  ended  the  solemnity,  and  then  the  festivity  be- 
gan, as  it  ended,  with  a  wedding  feast,  where  people 
sang  and  danced  and  made  speeches  and  drank  toasts, 
and  the  fun  was  kept  up  till  the  hours  of  the  Obliga- 
tories  approached ;  and  then,  what  do  you  think  ?     The 

174 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

married  pair  put  off  their  wedding  garments  with  thef 

rest  and  went  to  work  in  the  fields!     Later,  I  under-; 

t 
stood,  if  they  wished  to  take  a  wedding  journey  theyi 

could  freely  do  so ;  but  the  first  thing  in  their  married) 
life  they  must  honor  the  Altrurian  ideal  of  work,  by! 
which  every  one  must  live  in  order  that  every  other' 
may  live  without  overwork.  I  believe  that  the  mar- 
riage ceremonial  is  something  like  that  of  the  Quakers, 
but  I  never  saw  a  Quaker  wedding,  and  I  could  only 
compare  this  with  the  crazy  romps  with  which  our 
house-weddings  often  end,  with  throwing  of  rice  and 
old  shoes,  and  tying  ribbons  to  the  bridal  carriage  and 
baggage,  and  following  the  pair  to  the  train  with  out- 
breaks of  tiresome  hilarity,  which  make  them  conspicu- 
ous before  their  fellow-travellers;  or  with  some  of 
our  ghastly  church  weddings,  in  which  the  religious 
ceremonial  is  lost  in  the  social  effect,  and  ends  with  that 
everlasting  thumping  march  from  "  Lohengrin,"  and 
the  outsiders  storming  about  the  bridal  pair  and  the 
guests  with  the  rude  curiosity  that  the  fattest  police- 
men at  the  canopied  and  carpeted  entrance  cannot 
check. 


VIII 

W,E  have  since  been  at  other  weddings  and  at  chris- 
tenings and  at  funerals.  The  ceremonies  are  always 
held  in  the  temples,  and  are  always  in  the  same  seri- 
ous spirit.  As  the  Altrurians  are  steadfast  believers 
in  immortality,  there  is  a  kind  of  solemn  elevation  in 
the  funeral  ceremonies  which  I  cannot  give  you  a  real 
notion  of.  It  is  helped,  I  think,  by  the  custom  of  not 
performing  the  ceremony  over  the  dead ;  a  brief  rite  is 
reserved  for  the  cemetery,  where  it  is  wished  that  the 
kindred  shall  not  be  present,  lest  they  think  ahrays  of 
the  material  body  and  not  of  the  spiritual  body  which 
shall  be  raised  in  incorruption.  Religious  service  is  held 
in  the  temples  every  day  at  the  end  of  the  Obligatories, 
and  whenever  we  are  near  a  village  or  in  any  of  the  cap- 
itals we  always  go.  It  is  very  simple.  After  a  hymn,  to 
which  the  people  sometimes  march  round  the  interior 
of  the  temple,  each  lays  on  the  altar  an  offering  from 
the  fields  or  woods  wliere  they  have  been  working,  if 
it  is  nothing  but  a  head  of  grain  or  a  wild  flower  or  a 
leaf.  Then  any  one  is  at  liberty  to  speak,  but  any  one 
else  may  go  out  without  offence.  There  is  no  ritual; 
sometimes  they  read  a  chapter  from  the  'New  Testa- 
ment, preferably  a  part  of  the  story  of  Christ  or  a 
passage  from  His  discourses.  The  idea  of  coming  to 
the  temple  at  the  end  of  the  day's  labor  is  to  consecrate 
that  day's  work,  and  they  do  not  call  an>'thing  work  that 
is  not  work  with  the  hands.  When  I  explained,  or  tried 
to  explain,  that  among  us  a  great  many  people  worked 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

with  their  brains,  to  amuse  others  or  to  get  handwork  out 
of  them,  they  were  unable  to  follow  me.  I  asked  if  they 
did  not  consider  composing  music  or  poetry  or  plays,  or 
painting  pictures  work,  and  they  said,  ISTo,  that  was 
pleasure,  and  must  be  indulged  only  during  the  Volun- 
taries; it  was  never  to  be  honored  like  work  with  the 
hands,  for  it  would  not  equalize  the  burden  of  that,  but 
might  put  an  undue  share  of  it  on  others.  They  said 
that  lives  devoted  to  such  pursuits  must  be  very  un- 
wholesome, and  they  brought  me  to  book  about  the 
lives  of  most  artists,  literary  men,  and  financiers  in  the 
capitalistic  world  to  prove  what  they  said.  They  held 
that  people  must  work  with  their  hands  willingly,  in  the 
artistic  spirit,  but  they  could  only  do  that  when  they 
knew  that  others  differently  gifted  were  working  in  like 
manner  with  their  hands. 

I  couldn't  begin  to  tell  you  all  our  queer  experiences. 
As  I  have  kept  saying,  I  am  a  great  curiosity  every- 
where, and  I  could  flatter  myself  that  people  were  more 
eager  to  see  me  than  to  hear  Aristides.  Sometimes  I 
couldn't  help  thinking  that  they  expected  to  find  me  an 
awful  warning,  a  dreadful  example  of  whatever  a  woman 
ought  n6t  to  be,  and  a  woman  from  capitalistic  condi- 
tions must  be  logically.  But  sometimes  they  were  very 
intelligent,  even  the  simplest  villagers,  as  we  should  call 
them,  though  there  is  such  an  equality  of  education  and 
opportunity  here  that  no  simplicity  of  life  has  the 
effect  of  dulling  people  as  it  has  with  us.  One  thing 
was  quite  American :  they  always  wanted  to  know  how 
I  liked  Altruria,  and  when  I  told  them,  as  I  sincerely 
could,  that  I  adored  it,  they  were  quite  affecting  in  their 
pleasure.  They  generally  asked  if  I  would  like  to  go 
back  to  America,  and  when  I  said  "No,  they  were  de- 
lighted beyond  anything.  They  said  I  must  become  a 
citizen  and  vote  and  take  part  in  the  government,  for 

177 


^ 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

jthat  was  every  woman's  duty  as  well  as  right;  it  was 
[wrong  to  leave  the  whole  responsibility  to  the  men. 
They  asked  if  American  women  took  no  interest  in  the 
government,  and  when  I  told  them  there  was  a  very 
small  nnmber  who  wished  to  influence  politics  socially, 
as  the  Englishwomen  did,  but  without  voting  or  taking 
any  responsibility,  they  were  shocked.  In  one  of  the 
Regionic  capitals  they  wanted  me  to  sjjeak  after  Aris- 
tides,  but  I  had  nothing  prepared ;  at  the  next  I  did  get 
off  a  little  speech  in  English,  which  he  translated  after 
me.  Later  he  put  it  into  Altrurian,  and  I  memorized 
it,  and  made  myself  immensely  popular  by  parroting  it. 

The  pronunciation  of  Altrurian  is  not  difficult,  for 
it  is  spelled  phonetically,  and  the  sounds  are  very  sim- 
ple. Where  they  were  once  difficult  they  have  been 
simplified,  for  here  the  simplification  of  life  extends 
to  everything ;  and  the  grammar  has  been  reduced  in  its 
structure  till  it  is  as  elemental  as  English  grammar 
or  I^orwegian.  The  language  is  Greek  in  origin,  but 
the  intricate  inflections  and  the  declensions  have  been 
thrown  away,  and  it  has  kept  only  the  simplest  forms. 
You  must  get  Mr.  Twelvemough  to  explain  this  to  you, 
Dolly,  for  it  would  take  me  too  long,  and  I  have  so 
much  else  to  tell  you.  A  good  many  of  the  women  have 
taken  up  English,  but  they  learn  it  as  a  dead  language, 
and  they  give  it  a  comical  effect  by  trying  to  pronounce 
it  as  it  is  spelled. 

I  suppose  you  are  anxious,  if  these  letters  which  are 
piling  up  and  piling  up  should  ever  reach  you,  or  even 
start  to  do  so,  to  know  something  about  the  Altru- 
rian cities,  and  what  they  are  like.  Well,  in  the  first 
place,  you  must  cast  all  images  of  American  cities 
out  of  your  mind,  or  any  European  cities,  except, 
perhaps,  the  prettiest  and  stateliest  parts  of  Paris, 
where  there  is  a  regular  sky-line,  and  the  public  build- 

178 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

ing's  and  monuments  are  approached  through  shaded  , 
avenues.  There  are  no  private  houses  here,  in  our/ 
sense  —  that  is,  houses  which  people  have  built  with 
their  own  money  on  their  own  land,  and  made  as 
ugly  outside  and  as  molestive  to  their  neighbors  and 
the  passers-by  as  they  chose.  As  the  buildings  belong 
to  the  whole  people,  the  first  requirement  is  that  they 
shall  be  beautiful  inside  and  out.  There  are  a  few 
grand  edifices  looking  like  Greek  temples,  which  are 
used  for  the  government  offices,  and  these  are,  of 
course,  the  most  dignified,  but  the  dwellings  are  quite 
as  attractive  and  comfortable.  They  are  built  round 
courts,  with  gardens  and  flowers  in  the  courts,  and 
wide  grassy  spaces  round  them.  They  are  rather  tall, 
but  never  so  tall  as  our  great  hotels  or  apartment- 
houses,  and  the  floors  are  brought  to  one  level  by  eleva- 
tors, which  are  used  only  in  the  capitals ;  and,  generally 
speaking,  I  should  say  the  villages  were  pleasanter  than 
the  cities.  In  fact,  the  village  is  the  Altrurian  ideal, 
and  there  is  an  effort  everywhere  to  reduce  the  size 
of  the  towns  and  increase  the  number  of  the  villages. 
The  outlying  farms  have  been  gathered  into  these, 
and  now  there  is  not  one  of  those  lonely  places  in  the 
country,  like  those  where  our  farmers  toil  alone  out- 
doors and  their  wives  alone  indoors,  and  both  go  mad 
so  often  in  the  solitude.  The  villages  are  almost  in 
sight  of  each  other,  and  the  people  go  to  their  fields 
in  company,  w^hile  the  women  carry  on  their  house- 
keeping co-operatively,  with  a  large  kitchen  which  they 
use  in  common;  they  have  their  meals  apart  or  to- 
gether, as  they  like.  If  any  one  is  sick  or  disabled  the 
neighbors  come  in  and  help  do  her  work,  as  they  used 
with  us  in  the  early  times,  and  as  they  still  do  in  coun- 
try places.  Village  life  here  is  preferred,  just  as  coun- 
try life  is  in  England,  and  one  thing  that  will  amuse 

179 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

you,  with  your  American  ideas,  and  yonr  pride  in  the 
overgrowth  of  our  cities:  the  Altrurian  papers  solemn- 
ly announce  from  time  to  time  that  the  population  of 
such  or  such  a  capital  has  been  reduced  so  many 
hundreds  or  thousands  since  the  last  census.  That 
means  that  the  villages  in  the  neighborhood  have  been 
increased  in  number  and  population. 

Meanwhile,  I  must  say  the  capitals  are  delightful: 
clean,  airy,  quiet,  with  the  most  beautiful  architecture, 
mostly  classic  and  mostly  marble,  with  rivers  running 
through  them  and  round  them,  and  every  real  con- 
venience, but  not  a  clutter  of  artificial  conveniences,  as 
with  us.  In  the  streets  there  are  noiseless  trolleys 
(where  they  have  not  been  replaced  by  public  auto- 
mobiles) which  the  long  distances  of  the  ample  ground- 
plan  make  rather  necessary,  and  the  rivers  are  shot  over 
with  swift  motor-boats;  for  the  short  distances  you  al- 
ways expect  to  walk,  or  if  you  don't  expect  it,  you 
walk  anyway.  The  car-lines  and  boat-lines  are  public, 
and  they  are  free,  for  the  Altrurians  think  that  the 
community  owes  transportation  to  every  one  who  lives 
beyond  easy  reach  of  the  points  which  their  work  calls 
them  to. 

Of  course  the  great  government  stores  are  in  the 
capitals,  and  practically  there  are  no  stores  in  the  vil- 
lages, except  for  what  you  might  call  emergency  sup- 
plies. But  you  must  not  imagine,  Dolly,  that  shopping, 
here,  is  like  shopping  at  home — or  in  America,  as  I 
am  learning  to  say,  for  Altruria  is  home  now.  That 
is,  you  don't  fill  your  purse  with  bank-notes,  or  have 
things  charged.  You  get  everything  you  want,  within 
reason,  and  certainly  everything  you  need,  for  nothing. 
You  have  only  to  provide  yourself  with  a  card,  some- 
thing like  that  you  have  to  show  at  the  Army  and  ISTavy 
Stores  in  London,  when  you  first  go  to  buy  there,  which 

"  ISO 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

certifies  that  jou  belong  to  this  or  that  workino'-phalanXj 
and  that  you  have  not  failed  in  the  Obligatories  for 
such  and  such  a  length  of  time.  If  you  are  not  en- 
titled to  this  card,  you  had  better  not  go  shopping,  for 
there  is  no  possible  equivalent  for  it  which  will  enable 
you  to  carry  any  tiling  away  or  have  it  sent  to  your 
house.  At  first  I  could  not  help  feeling  rather  indignant 
when  I  was  asked  to  show  my  work-card  in  the  stores ;  I 
had  usually  forgotten  to  bring  it,  or  sometimes  I  had 
brought  my  husband's  card,  which  would  not  do  at  all, 
unless  I  could  say  that  I  had  been  ill  or  disabled,  for 
a  woman  is  expected  to  work  quite  the  same  as  a  man. 
Of  course  her  housework  counts,  and  as  we  are  on  a 
sort  of  public  mission,  they  count  our  hours  of  travel 
as  working-hours,  especially  as  Aristides  has  made  it 
a  point  of  good  citizenship  for  us  to  stop  every  now  and 
then  and  join  in  the  Obligatories  when  the  villagers 
were  getting  in  the  farm  crops  or  quarrying  stone  or 
putting  up  a  house.  I  am  never  much  use  in  quarrying 
or  building,  but  I  come  in  strong  in  the  hay-fields  or 
the  apple  orchards  or  the  orange  groves. 

The  shopping  here  is  not  so  enslaving  as  it  is  with 
us — I  mean,  with  you — because  the  fashions  do  not 
change,  and  you  get  things  only  when  you  need  them, 
not  when  you  want  them,  or  when  other  people  think 
you  do.  The  costume  was  fixed  long  ago,  when  the 
Altruriau  era  began,  by  a  commission  of  artists,  and 
it  would  be  considered  very  bad  form  as  well  as  bad 
morals  to  try  changing  it  in  the  least.  People  are  al- 
lowed to  choose  their  own  colors,  but  if  one  goes  very 
wrong,  or  so  far  wrong  as  to  offend  the  public  taste,  y 
she  is  gently  admonished  by  the  local  art  commission ; 
if  she  insists,  they  let  her  have  her  own  way,  but  she 
seldom  wants  it  when  she  knows  that  people  think  her 
a  fright.     Of  course  tlie  costume  is  modified  somewhat 

181 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

for  the  age  and  shape  of  the  wearer,  but  this  is  not 
so  often  as  you  might  think.  There  are  no  very  lean 
or  very  stout  people,  though  there  are  old  and  young, 
just  as  there  are  with  us.  But  the  Altrurians  keep 
young  very  much  longer  than  capitalistic  peoples  do, 
and  the  life  of  work  keeps  down  their  weight.  You 
know  I  used  to  incline  a  little  to  over-plumpness,  I 
;really  believe  because  I  overate  at  times  simply  to  keep 
ifrom  thinking  of  the  poor  who  had  to  undereat,  but 
that  is  quite  past  now;  I  have  lost  at  least  twenty-five 
pounds  from  working  out-doors  and  travelling  so  much 
and  living  very,  very  simply. 


IX 


I  HAVE  to  jot  things  do\vii  as  they  come  into  my 
mind,  and  I  am  afraid  I  forget  some  of  the  most  im- 
portant. Everybody  is  so  novel  on  this  famous  tour 
of  ours  that  I  am  continually  interested,  but  one  has 
one's  preferences  even  in  Altruria,  and  I  believe  I 
like  best  the  wives  of  the  artists  and  literary  men! 
whom  one  finds  working  in  the  galleries  and  libraries 
of  the  capitals  everywhere.  They  are  not  more  intelli- 
gent than  other  women,  perhaps,  but  they  are  more 
sympathetic;  and  one  sees  so  little  of  those  people  in 
ISTew  York,  for  all  they  abound  there. 

The  galleries  are  not  only  for  the  exhibition  of 
pictures,  but  each  has  numbers  of  ateliers,  where  the 
artists  work  and  teach.  The  libraries  are  the  most 
wonderfully  imagined  things.  Tou  do  not  have  to 
come  and  study  in  them,  but  if  you  are  working  up  any 
particular  subject,  the  books  relating  to  it  are  sent  to 
your  dwelling  every  morning  and  brought  away  every 
noon,  so  that  during  the  obligatory  hours  you  have 
them  completely  at  your  disposition,  and  during  the 
Volimtaries  you  can  consult  them  with  the  rest  of  the 
public  in  the  library;  it  is  not  thought  best  that  study 
should  be  carried  on  throughout  the  day,  and  the  re- 
sults seem  to  justify  this  theory.  If  you  want  to  read 
a  book  merely  for  pleasure,  you  are  allowed  to  take  it 
out  and  live  with  it  as  long  as  you  like ;  the  copy  you 
have  is  immediately  replaced  with  another,  so  that  you 

183 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

do  not  feel  hurried  aud  are  not  obliged  to  ramp  tliroiigli 
it  in  a  week  or  a  fortnight. 

The  Altrurian  books  arc  still  rather  sealed  books  to 
me,  but  they  are  delightful  to  the  eye,  all  in  large  print 
on  wide  margins,  with  flexible  bindings,  and  such  light 
paper  that  you  can  hold  them  in  one  hand  indefinitely 
without  tiring.  I  must  send  you  some  with  this,  if  I 
ever  get  my  bundle  of  letters  off  to  you.  You  will  see 
by  the  dates  that  I  am  writing  you  one  every  day ;  I  had 
thought  of  keeping  a  journal  for  you,  but  then  I  should 
have  had  left  out  a  good  many  things  that  happened 
during  our  first  days,  when  the  impressions  were  so 
vivid,  and  I  should  have  got  to  addressing  my  rec- 
ords to  myself,  and  I  think  I  had  better  keep  to  the 
form  of  letters.  If  they  reach  you,  and  you  read  them 
at  random,  why  that  is  very  much  the  way  I  write 
them. 

I  despair  of  giving  you  any  real  notion  of  the 
capitals,  but  if  you  remember  the  White  City  at  the 
Columbian  Fair  at  Chicago  in  1893,  you  can  have 
some  idea  of  the  general  effect  of  one;  only  there  is 
nothing  heterogeneous  in  their  beauty.  There  is  one 
classic  rule  in  the  architecture,  but  each  of  the  different 
architects  may  characterize  an  edifice  from  himself,  just 
as  different  authors  writing  the  same  language  charac- 
terize it  by  the  diction  natural  to  him.  There  are  sug- 
gestions of  the  capitals  in  some  of  our  cities,  and  if  you 
remember  Commonwealth  Avenue  in  Boston,  you  can 
imagine  something  like  the  union  of  street  and  garden 
which  every  street  of  them  is.  The  trolleys  run  under 
the  overarching  trees  between  the  lawns,  flanked  by 
gravelled  footpaths  between  flower-beds,  and  you  take 
the  cars  or  not  as  you  like.  As  there  is  no  hurry,  they 
go  about  as  fast  as  English  trams,  and  the  danger  from 
them  is  practically  reduced  to  nothing  by  the  crossings 

184 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

dipping  under  them  at  the  street  corners.  The  centre 
of  the  capital  is  approached  by  colonnades,  which  at 
night  bear  groups  of  great  bulbous  lamps,  and  by  day 
flutter  with  the  Altrurian  and  Regionic  flags.  Around 
this  centre  are  the  stores  and  restaurants  and  theatres, 
and  galleries  and  libraries,  with  arcades  over  the  side- 
walks, like  those  in  Bologna ;  sometimes  the  arcades  are 
in  two  stories,  as  they  are  in  Chester.  People  are  con- 
stantly coming  and  going  in  an  easy  way  during  the 
afternoon,  though  in  the  morning  the  streets  are  rather 
deserted. 

But  what  is  the  use  ?  I  could  go  on  describing  and 
describing,  and  never  get  in  half  the  differences  from 
American  cities,  with  their  hideous  uproar,  and  their 
mud  in  the  wet,  and  their  clouds  of  swirling  dust  in 
the  wind.  But  there  is  one  feature  which  I  must  men- 
tion, because  you  can  fancy  it  from  the  fond  dream  of 
a  great  national  highway  which  some  of  our  architects 
projected  while  they  were  still  in  the  fervor  of  excite- 
ment from  the  beauty  of  the  Peristyle,  and  other  feat- 
ures of  the  White  City.  They  really  have  such  a  high- 
way here,  crossing  the  whole  Altrurian  continent,  and 
uniting  the  circle  of  the  Regionic  capitals.  As  we 
travelled  for  a  long  time  by  the  country  roads  on  the 
beds  of  the  old  railways,  I  had  no  idea  of  this  mag- 
nificent avenue,  till  one  day  my  husband  suddenly 
ran  our  van  into  the  one  leading  up  to  the  first 
capital  we  were  to  visit.  Then  I  found  myself  be- 
tween miles  and  miles  of  stately  white  pillars,  rising 
and  sinking  as  the  road  found  its  natural  levels,  and 
growing  in  the  perspective  before  us  and  dwindling 
behind  us.  I  could  not  keep  out  of  my  mind  a  colon- 
nade of  palm-trees,  only  the  fronds  were  lacking,  and 
there  were  never  palms  so  beautiful.  Each  pillar  was 
inscribed  with  the  name  of  some  Altrurian  who  had 

185 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE   OF  THE   NEEDLE 

done  something  for  his  country,  written  some  beautiful 
poem  or  story,  or  history,  made  some  scientific  dis- 
covery, composed  an  opera,  invented  a  universal  con- 
venience, performed  a  wonderful  cure,  or  been  a  de- 
lightful singer,  or  orator,  or  gardener,  or  farmer.  'Not 
one  soldier,  general  or  admiral,  among  them !  That 
seemed  very  strange  to  me,  and  I  asked  Aristides  how 
it  was.  Like  everything  else  in  Altruria,  it  was  very 
simple;  there  had  been  no  war  for  so  long  that  there 
were  no  famous  soldiers  to  commemorate.  But  he 
stopped  our  van  when  he  came  to  the  first  of  the  many 
arches  which  spanned  the  highway,  and  read  out  to  me 
in  English  the  Altrurian  record  that  it  was  erected  in 
honor  of  the  first  President  of  the  Altrurian  Common- 
wealth, who  managed  the  negotiations  when  the  capi- 
talistic oligarchies  to  the  north  and  south  were  peace- 
fully annexed,  and  the  descendants  of  the  three  na- 
tions joined  in  the  commemoration  of  an  event  that 
abolished  war  forever  on  the  Altrurian  continent. 

Here  I  can  imagine  Mr.  Makely  asking  who  footed 
the  bills  for  this  beauty  and  magnificence,  and  whether 
these  works  were  constructed  at  the  cost  of  the  nation, 
or  the  different  Regions,  or  the  abutters  on  the  different 
highways.  But  the  fact  is,  you  poor,  caj)italistic  dears, 
they  cost  nobody  a  dollar,  for  there  is  not  a  dollar  in 
Altruria.  You  must  worry  into  the  idea  somehow  that 
in  Altruria  you  cannot  buy  anything  except  by  work- 
ing, and  that  work  is  the  current  coin  of  the  republic : 
you  pay  for  everything  by  drops  of  sweat,  and  off  your 
own  brow,  not  somebody  else's  brow.  The  people  built 
these  monuments  and  colonnades,  and  aqueducts  and 
highways  and  byways,  and  sweet  villages  and  palatial 
cities  with  their  own  hands,  after  the  designs  of  artists, 
who  also  took  part  in  the  labor.  But  it  Avas  a  labor  that 
they  delighted  in  so  much  that  they  chose  to  perform 

186 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

it  during  tlie  Voluntaries,  when  thev  might  have  been 
resting,  and  not  during  the  Obligatories,  when  thej  were 
required  to  work.  So  it  was  all  joj  and  all  glory.  They 
say  there  never  was  such  hapniness  in  any  country 
since  the  world  began.  While  the  work  went  on  it  was 
like  a  perpetual  Fourth  of  July  or  an  everlasting  picnic. 

But  I  know  you  hate  this  sort  of  economical  stuff, 
Dolly,  and  I  will  make  haste  to  get  down  to  business, 
as  Mr.  Makely  would  say,  for  I  am  really  coming  to 
something  that  you  will  think  worth  while.  One  morn- 
ing, when  we  had  made  half  the  circle  of  the  capitals, 
and  were  on  the  homestretch  to  the  one  where  we  had 
left  our  dear  mother — for  Aristides  claims  her,  too — 
and  I  was  letting  that  dull  nether  anxiety  for  her  come 
to  the  top,  though  we  had  had  the  fullest  telephonic 
talks  with  her  every  day,  and  knew  she  was  well  and 
happy,  we  came  round  the  shoulder  of  a  wooded  cliff  and 
found  ourselves  on  an  open  stretch  of  the  northern  coast. 
At  first  I  could  only  exclaim  at  the  beauty  of  the  sea, 
lying  blue  and  still  beyond  a  long  beach  closed  by 
another  headland,  and  I  did  not  realize  that  a  large 
yacht  which  I  saw  close  to  land  had  gone  ashore.  The 
beach  was  crowded  with  Altrurians,  who  seemed  to 
have  come  to  the  rescue,  for  they  were  putting  off  to 
the  yacht  in  boats  and  returning  with  passengers,  and 
jumping  out,  and  pulling  their  boats  with  them  up  on 
to  the  sand. 

I  was  quite  bewildered,  and  I  don't  know  what  to  say 
I  was  the  next  thing,  when  I  saw  that  the  stranded  yacht 
was  flying  the  American  flag  from  her  peak.  I  sup- 
posed she  must  be  one  of  our  cruisers,  she  was  so  large, 
and  the  first  thing  that  flashed  into  my  mind  was  a 
kind  of  amused  wonder  what  those  poor  Altrurians 
would  do  with  a  ship-of-war  and  her  marines  and  crew. 
I  couldn't  ask  any  coherent  questions,  and  luckily  Aris- 

187 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

tides  was  answering  mj  incoherent  ones  in  the  best 
possible  way  by  wheeling  our  van  down  on  the  beach 
and  making  for  the  point  nearest  the  yacht.  He  had 
time  to  say  he  did  not  believe  she  was  a  government 
vessel,  and,  in  fact,  I  remembered  that  once  I  had  seen 
a  boat  in  the  ISTortli  River  getting  np  steam  to  go  to 
Europe  which  was  much  larger,  and  had  her  decks 
covered  with  sailors  that  I  took  for  bluejackets;  but 
she  was  only  the  private  yacht  of  some  people  I  knew. 
These  stupid  things  kept  going  and  coming  in  my 
mind  while  my  husband  was  talking  with  some  of  the 
Altrurian  girls  who  were  there  helping  with  the  men. 
They  said  that  the  yacht  had  gone  ashore  the  night  be- 
fore last  in  one  of  the  sudden  fogs  that  come  up  on  that 
coast,  and  that  some  people  whom  the  sailors  seemed  to 
obey  were  camping  on  the  edge  of  the  upland  above  the 
beach,  under  a  large  tent  they  had  brought  from  the 
yacht.  They  had  refused  to  go  to  the  guest-house  in  the 
nearest  village,  and  as  nearly  as  the  girls  could  make 
out  they  expected  the  yacht  to  get  afloat  from  tide  to 
tide,  and  then  intended  to  re-embark  on  her.  In  the 
mean  time  they  had  provisioned  themselves  from  the 
ship,  and  were  living  in  a  strange  way  of  their  own. 
Some  of  them  seemed  to  serve  the  others,  but  these 
appeared  to  be  used  with  a  very  ungrateful  indiffer- 
ence, as  if  they  were  of  a  different  race.  There  was  one 
who  wore  a  white  apron  and  white  cap  who  directed 
the  cooking  for  the  rest,  and  had  several  assistants; 
and  from  time  to  time  very  disagreeable  odors  came 
from  the  camp,  like  burning  flesh.  The  Altrurians 
had  carried  them  fruits  and  vegetables,  but  the  men- 
assistants  had  refused  them  contemptuously  and  seemed 
suspicious  of  the  variety  of  mushrooms  they  offered 
them.  They  called  out,  "  To-stoo !"  and  I  understood 
that  the  strangers  "were  afraid  they  were  bringing  toad- 

188 


TIIEOUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

stools.  One  of  the  Altrurian  girls  liad  been  studyiug 
English  in  the  nearest  capital,  and  she  had  tried  to 
talk  with  these  people,  pronouncing  it  in  the  Altrnrian 
way,  but  they  could  make  nothing  of  one  another ;  then 
she  wrote  down  what  she  wanted  to  say,  but  as  she  \  ~y 
spelled  it  phonetically  they  were  not  able  to  read  her 
English.  She  asked  us  if  I  was  the  American  Altru- 
rian she  had  heard  of,  and  Avlien  1  said  yes  she  lost  no 
time  in  showing  us  to  the  camp  of  the  castaways. 

As  soon  as  we  saw  their  tents  we  went  forward  till 
we  were  met  at  the  largest  by  a  sort  of  marine  foot- 
man, who  bowed  slightly  and  said  to  me,  "What  name 
shall  I  say,  ma'am  ?"  and  I  answered  distinctly,  so 
that  he  might  get  the  name  right,  "  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Homos."  Then  he  held  back  the  flap  of  the  marquee, 
which  seemed  to  serve  these  people  as  a  drawing-room, 
and  called  out,  standing  very  rigidly  upright,  to  let  us 
pass,  in  the  way  that  I  remembered  so  well,  "  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  'Omos !"  and  a  severe-looking,  rather  elderly  lady 
rose  to  meet  us  with  an  air  that  was  both  anxious  and 
forbidding,  and  before  she  said  anything  else  she  burst 
out,  "  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  speak  English  ?" 

I  said  that  I  spoke  English,  and  had  not  spoken  any- 
thing else  but  rather  poor  French  until  six  months  be- 
fore, and  then  she  demanded,  "  Have  you  been  cast 
away  on  this  outlandish  place,  too?" 

I  laughed  and  said  I  lived  here,  and  I  introduced 
my  husband  as  well  as  I  could  without  knowing  her 
name.  He  explained  with  his  pretty  Altrurian  accent, 
which  you  used  to  like  so  much,  that  we  had  ventured  to 
come  in  the  hope  of  being  of  use  to  them,  and  added 
some  regrets  for  their  misfortune  so  sweetly  that  I 
wondered  she  could  help  responding  in  kind.  But  she 
merely  said,  "  Oh !"  and  then  she  seemed  to  recollect 
herself,  and  frowning  to  a  very  gentle-looking  old  man 

189 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

to  come  forward,  she  ignored  my  husband  in  presenting 
me.     "  Mr.  Thrall,  Mrs.  " 

She  hesitated  for  my  name,  and  I  supplied  it, 
"  Homos,"  and  as  the  old  man  had  put  out  his  hand 
in  a  kindly  Avay  I  took  it. 

"  And  this  is  my  husband,  Aristidcs  Homos,  an  Al- 
trurian,"  I  said,  and  then,  as  the  lady  had  not  asked 
us  to  sit  down,  or  shown  the  least  sign  of  liking  our 
being  there,  the  natural  woman  flamed  up  in  me  as 
she  hadn't  in  all  the  time  I  have  been  away  from  ISTew 
York.  "  I  am  glad  you  are  so  comfortable  here,  Mr. 
Thrall.  You  won't  need  us,  I  see.  The  people  about 
will  do  anything  in  their  power  for  you.  Come,  my 
dear,"  and  I  was  sweeping  out  of  that  tent  in  a  manner 
calculated  to  give  the  eminent  millionaire's  wife  a  no- 
tion of  Altrurian  hauteur  which  I  must  own  would  have 
been  altogether  mistaken. 

I  knew  who  they  were  perfectly.  Even  if  I  had  not 
once  met  them  I  should  have  known  that  they  were 
the  ultra-rich  Thralls,  from  the  multitudinous  pictures 
of  them  that  I  had  seen  in  the  papers  at  home,  not  long 
after  they  came  on  to  ISTew  York. 

He  was  beginning,  "  Oh  no,  oh  no,"  but  I  cut  in. 
"  My  husband  and  I  are  on  our  way  to  the  next  Re- 
gionic  capital,  and  we  are  somewhat  hurried.  You 
will  be  quite  well  looked  after  by  the  neighbors  here, 
and  I  see  that  we  are  rather  in  your  housekeeper's 
way." 

It  was  nasty,  Dolly,  and  I  won't  deny  it;  it  was 
vulgar.  But  what  would  you  have  done  ?  I  could  feel 
Aristides'  mild  eye  sadly  on  me,  and  I  was  sorry  for 
him,  but  I  assure  him  I  was  not  sorry  for  them,  till 
that  old  man  spoke  again,  so  timidly :  "  It  isn't  my — 
it's  my  wife,  Mrs.  Homos.  Let  me  introduce  her.  But 
haven't  we  met  before  ?" 

190 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF   THE  NEEDLE 

"  Perhaps  during  mj  first  husband's  lifetime.  I 
.was  Mrs.  Bellington  Strange." 

"  Mrs.  P.  Bellington  Strange  ?  Your  husband  was 
a  dear  friend  of  mine  when  we  were  both  young — a 
good  man,  if  ever  there  was  one ;  the  best  in  the  world ! 
I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  again.  Ah — my  dear,  you  re- 
member my  speaking  of  Mrs.  Strange  V 

He  took  my  hand  again  and  held  it  in  his  soft  old 
hands,  as  if  hesitating  whether  to  transfer  it  to  her, 
and  my  heart  melted  towards  him.  You  may  think  it 
very  odd,  Dolly,  but  it  was  what  he  said  of  my  dear, 
dead  husband  that  softened  me.  It  made  him  seem 
very  fatherly,  and  I  felt  the  affection  for  him  that  I 
felt  for  my  husband,  when  he  seemed  more  like  a  father. 
Aristides  and  I  often  talk  of  it,  and  he  has  no  wish 
that  I  should  forget  him. 

Mrs.  Thrall  made  no  motion  to  take  my  hand  from 
him,  but  she  said,  "  I  think  I  have  met  Mr.  Strange," 
and  now  I  saw  in  the  backgroimd,  sitting  on  a  camp- 
stool  near  a  long,  lank  young  man  stretched  in  a  ham- 
mock, a  very  handsome  girl,  who  hastily  ran  through 
a  book,  and  then  dropped  it  at  the  third  mention  of  my 
name.  I  suspected  that  the  book  was  the  Social 
Register,  and  that  the  girl's  search  for  me  had  been 
satisfactory,  for  she  rose  and  came  vagTiely  towards  us, 
while  the  young  man  unfolded  himself  from  the  ham- 
mock, and  stood  hesitating,  but  looking  as  if  he  rather 
liked  what  had  happened. 

Mr.  Thrall  bustled  about  for  camp-stools,  and  said, 
"  Do  stop  and  have  some  breakfast  with  us,  it's  just 
coming  in.  May  I  introduce  my  daughter,  Lady 
Moors  and — and  Lord  Moors?"  The  girl  took  my 
hand,  and  the  young  man  bowed  from  his  place ;  but  if 
that  poor  old  man  had  known,  peace  was  not  to  be 
made  so  easily  between  two  such  bad-tempered  women 
^3  191 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

as  Mrs.  Thrall  and  myself.  We  expressed  some  very 
stiff  sentiments  in  regard  to  the  weather,  and  the  pros- 
pect of  the  yacht  getting  off  with  the  next  tide,  and  my 
husband  joined  in  with  that  manly  gentleness  of  his, 
but  Ave  did  not  sit  down,  much  less  offer  to  stay  to 
breakfast.  We  had  got  to  the  door  of  the  tent,  the 
family  following  us,  even  to  the  noble  son-in-law,  and 
as  she  now  realized  that  we  are  actually  going,  Mrs. 
Thrall  gasped  out,  "  But  you  are  not  leaving  us  ?  What 
shall  we  do  with  all  these  natives  V 

This  was  again  too  much,  and  I  flamed  out  at  her. 
"  Natives !  They  are  cultivated  and  refined  people,  for 
they  are  Altrurians,  and  I  assure  you  you  will  be  in 
much  better  hands  than  mine  with  them,  for  I  am  only 
Altrurian  by  marriage!" 

She  was  one  of  those  leathery  egotists  that  nothing 
will  make  a  dint  in,  and  she  came  back  Avith,  "  But 
we  don't  speak  the  language,  and  they  don't  speak  Eng- 
lish, and  how  are  we  to  manage  if  the  yacht  doesn't  get 
afloat  ?" 

"  Oh,  no  doubt  you  will  be  looked  after  from  the 
capital  we  have  just  left.  But  I  Avill  venture  to  make 
a  little  suggestion  with  regard  to  the  natives  in  the 
mean  time.  They  are  not  proud,  but  they  are  very  sen- 
sitive, and  if  you  fail  in  any  point  of  consideration, 
they  will  understand  that  you  do  not  want  their  hos- 
pitality." 

"  I  imagine  our  own  people  will  be  able  to  look  after 
us,"  she  answered  quite  as  nastily.  "  We  do  not  pro- 
pose to  be  dependent  on  them.  We  can  pay  our  way 
here  as  we  do  elsewhere." 

"  The  experiment  will  be  worth  trjdng,"  I  said. 
"  Come,  Aristides !"  and  I  took  the  poor  fellow  away 
with  me  to  our  van.  Mr.  Thrall  made  some  hope- 
less little  movements  towards  us,  but  I  would  not  stop 

192 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

or  even,  look  back.  When  we  got  into  the  van,  I  made 
Aristides  j^ut  on  the  full  power,  and  fell  back  into  my 
seat  and  cried  a  while,  and  then  I  scolded  him  because 
he  would  not  scold  me,  and  went  on  in  a  really  scan- 
dalous way.  It  must  have  been  a  revelation  to  him, 
but  he  only  smoothed  me  on  the  shoulder  and  said, 
"  Poor  Eveleth,  poor  Eveleth,"  till  I  thought  I  should 
scream ;  but  it  ended  in  my  falling  on  his  neck,  and 
saying  I  knew  I  was  horrid,  and  what  did  he  want  me 
to  do? 

After  I  calmed  down  into  something  like  rationality, 
he  said  he  thought  we  had  perhaps  done  the  best  thing 
we  could  for  those  people  in  leaving  them  to  them- 
selves, for  they  could  come  to  no  possible  harm  among 
the  neighbors.  He  did  not  believe  from  what  he  had 
seen  of  the  yacht  from  the  shore,  and  from  what  the 
Altrurians  had  told  him,  that  there  was  one  chance 
in  a  thousand  of  her  ever  getting  afloat.  But  those 
people  would  have  to  convince  themselves  of  the  fact, 
and  of  several  other  facts  in  their  situation.  I  asked  him 
what  he  meant,  and  he  said  he  could  tell  me,  but  that 
as  yet  it  was  a  public  affair,  and  he  would  rather  not 
anticipate  the  private  interest  I  would  feel  in  it.  I  did 
not  insist;  in  fact,  I  wanted  to  get  that  odious  woman 
out  of  my  mind  as  soon  as  I  could,  for  the  thought  of 
her  threatened  to  poison  the  pleasure  of  the  rest  of  our 
tour. 

I  believe  my  husband  hurried  it  a  little,  though  he 
did  not  shorten  it,  and  we  got  back  to  the  Maritime 
Region  almost  a  week  sooner  than  we  had  first  intend- 
ed. I  found  my  dear  mother  well,  and  still  serenely 
happy  in  her  Altrurian  surroundings.  She  had  be- 
gun to  learn  the  language,  and  she  had  a  larger  ac- 
quaintance in  the  capital,  I  believe,  than  any  other  one 
person.      She  said  everybody  had  called  on  her,  and 

193 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

they  were  the  kindest  people  she  had  ever  dreamed  of. 
She  had  exchanged  cooking-lessons  with  one  lady  who, 
they  told  her,  was  a  distinguished  scientist,  and  she  had 
taught  another,  who  was  a  great  painter,  a  peculiar 
emhroidery  stitch  which  she  had  learned  from  my 
grandmother,  and  which  everybody  admired.  These 
two  ladies  had  given  her  most  of  her  grammatical  in- 
struction in  Altrurian,  but  there  was  a  briglit  little 
girl  who  had  enlarged  her  vocabulary  more  than  either, 
in  helping  her  about  her  housework,  the  mother  having 
lent  her  for  the  purpose.  My  mother  said  she  was  not 
ashamed  to  make  blunders  before  a  child,  and  the  little 
witch  had  taken  the  greatest  delight  in  telling  her  the 
names  of  things  in  the  house  and  the  streets  and  the 
fields  outside  the  town,  where  they  went  long  walks 
together. 


WelLj  mj  dear  Dorothea,  I  had  been  hoping  to  go 
more  into  detail  about  raj  mother  and  about  our  life 
in  the  Maritime  Capital,  which  is  to  be  our  home  for 
a  year,  but  I  had  hardly  got  down  the  last  words 
when  Aristides  came  in  with  a  despatch  from  the 
Seventh  Kegionic,  summoning  us  there  on  important 
public  business:  I  haven't  got  over  the  feeling  yet  of 
being  especially  distinguished  and  flattered  at  sharing 
in  public  business;  but  the  Altrurian  women  are  so 
used  to  it  that  they  do  not  think  anything  of  it.  The 
despatch  was  signed  by  an  old  friend  of  my  husband's, 
Cyril  Chrysostom,  who  had  once  been  Emissary  in 
England,  and  to  whom  my  husband  wrote  his  letters 
when  he  was  in  America.  I  hated  to  leave  my  mother 
so  soon,  but  it  could  not  be  helped,  and  we  took  the 
first  electric  express  for  the  Seventh  Regionic,  where 
we  arrived  in  about  an  hour  and  forty  minutes,  mak- 
ing the  three  hundred  miles  in  that  time  easily.  I 
couldn't  help  regretting  our  comfortable  van,  but  there 
was  evidently  haste  in  the  summons,  and  I  confess  that 
I  was  curious  to  know  what  the  matter  was,  though 
I  had  made  a  shrewd  guess  the  first  instant,  and  it 
turned  out  that  I  was  not  mistaken. 

The  long  and  the  short  of  it  was  that  there  was 
trouble  with  the  people  who  had  come  ashore  in  that 
yacht,  and  were  destined  never  to  go  to  sea  in  her. 
She  was  hopelessly  bedded  in  the  sand,  and  the  waves 
that  were  breaking  over  her  were  burying  her  deeper 

195 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   JSEEDLE 

and  deeper.  The  owners  were  living  in  tlicir  tent  as  we 
had  left  them,  and  her  crew  were  camped  in  smaller 
tents  and  any  shelter  thej  could  get,  along  the  beach. 
They  had  brought  her  stores  away,  but  many  of  the 
provisions  had  been  damaged,  and  it  had  become  a 
pressing  question  what  should  be  done  about  the  peo- 
ple. We  had  been  asked  to  consult  with  Cyril  and  his 
wife,  and  the  other  Regionic  chiefs  and  their  wives, 
and  we  threshed  the  question  out  nearly  the  whole  night. 

I  am  afraid  it  will  appear  rather  comical  in  some 
aspects  to  you  and  Mr.  Makely,  but  I  can  assure  you 
that  it  was  a  very  serious  matter  with  the  Altrurian 
authorities.  If  there  had  been  any  hope  of  a  vessel 
from  the  capitalistic  world  touching  at  Altruria  with- 
in a  definite  time,  they  could  have  managed,  for  they 
would  have  gladly  kept  the  yacht's  people  and  owners 
till  they  could  embark  them  for  Australia  or  'New 
Zealand,  and  would  have  made  as  little  of  the  trouble 
they  were  giving  as  they  could.  But  imtil  the  trader 
that  brought  us  should  return  with  the  crew,  as  the 
captain  had  promised,  there  was  no  ship  expected,  and 
any  other  wreck  in  the  mean  time  would  only  add  to 
their  difficulty.  You  may  be  surprised,  though  I  was 
not,  that  the  difficulty  was  mostly  with  the  yacht-owners, 
and  above  all  with  Mrs.  Thrall,  who  had  baffled  every 
effort  of  the  authorities  to  reduce  what  they  considered 
the  disorder  of  their  life. 

With  the  crew  it  was  a  different  matter.  As  soon 
as  they  had  got  drunk  on  the  wines  and  spirts  they  had 
brought  from  the  wi'eck,  and  then  had  got  sober  because 
they  had  drunk  all  the  liquors  up,  they  began  to  be  more 
manageable;  when  their  provisions  ran  short,  and  they 
were  made  to  understand  that  they  would  not  be  allowed 
to  plunder  the  fields  and  woods,  or  loot  the  villages  for 
something  to  eat,  they  became  almost  exemplarily  do- 

19G 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

cile.  At  first  they  were  disposed  to  show  figlit,  and 
the  principles  of  the  Altrnrians  did  not  allow  them  to 
use  violence  in  bringing  them  to  subjection ;  but  the  men 
had  counted  without  their  hosts  in  supposing  that  they 
could  therefore  do  as  they  pleased,  unless  they  pleased 
to  do  right.  After  they  had  made  their  first  foray 
they  were  warned  by  Cyril,  who  came  from  the  capital 
to  speak  English  with  them,  that  another  raid  would 
not  be  suffered.  They  therefore  attempted  it  by  night, 
but  the  Altrurians  were  prepared  for  them  with  the 
flexible  steel  nets  which  are  their  only  means  of  defence, 
and  half  a  dozen  sailors  were  taken  in  one.  When  they 
attempted  to  break  out,  and  their  shipmates  attempted  1 
to  break  in  to  free  them,  a  light  current  of  electricity  | 
was  sent  through  the  wires  and  the  thing  was  done.  / 
Those  who  were  rescued  —  the  Altrurians  will  not  say 
captured — had  hoes  j)ut  into  their  hands  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  were  led  into  the  fields  and  set  to  work,  after 
a  generous  breakfast  of  coffee,  bread,  and  mushrooms. 
The  chickens  they  had  killed  in  their  midnight  expe- 
dition were  buried,  and  those  which  they  had  not  killed 
lost  no  time  in  beginning  to  lay  eggs  for  the  sustenance 
of  the  reformed  castaways.  As  an  extra  precaution 
with  the  "  rescued,"  when  they  were  put  to  work,  each 
of  them  with  a  kind  of  shirt  of  mail,  worn  over  his  coat, 
which  could  easily  be  electrized  by  a  metallic  filament 
connecting  with  the  communal  dynamo,  and  under  these 
conditions  they  each  did  a  full  day's  work  during  the 
Obligatories. 

As  the  short  commons  grew  shorter  and  shorter,  both 
meat  and  drink,  at  Camp  Famine,  and  the  campers 
found  it  was  useless  to  attempt  thieving  from  the  Al- 
trurians, they  had  tried  begging  from  the  owners  in 
their  large  tent,  but  they  were  told  that  the  provisions 
were  giving  out  there,  too,  and  there  was  nothing  for 

197 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

them.  When  they  insisted  the  servants  of  the  owners 
had  threatened  them  with  revolvers,  and  the  sailors, 
who  had  nothing  but  their  knives,  preferred  to  at- 
tempt living  on  the  country.  Within  a  week  the 
whole  crew  had  been  put  to  work  in  the  woods  and 
fields  and  quarries,  or  wherever  they  could  make  them- 
selves useful.  They  were,  on  the  whole,  so  well  fed 
and  sheltered  that  they  were  perfectly  satisfied,  and 
went  down  with  the  Altrurians  on  the  beach  during 
the  Voluntaries  and  helped  secure  the  yacht's  boats  and 
pieces  of  wreckage  that  came  ashore.  Until  they  be- 
came accustomed  or  resigned  to  the  Altrurian  diet,  they 
were  allowed  to  catch  shell  -  fish  and  the  crabs  that 
swarmed  along  the  sand  and  cook  them,  but  on  condi- 
tion that  they  built  their  fires  on  the  beach,  and  cooked 
only  during  an  offshore  wind,  so  that  the  fumes  of  the 
roasting  should  not  offend  the  villagers. 

Cyril  acknowledged,  therefore,  that  the  question  of 
the  crew  was  for  the  present  practically  settled,  but  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Thrall,  and  their  daughter  and  son-in-law, 
with  their  servants,  still  presented  a  formidable  prob- 
lem. As  yet,  their  provisions  had  not  run  out,  and  they 
were  living  in  their  marquee  as  we  had  seen  them 
three  weeks  earlier,  just  after  their  yacht  went  ashore. 
It  could  not  be  said  that  they  were  molestive  in  the 
same  sense  as  the  sailors,  but  they  were  even  more 
demoralizing  in  the  spectacle  they  offered  the  neigh- 
borhood of  people  dependent  on  hired  service,  and 
in  their  endeavors  to  supply  themselves  in  perish- 
able provisions,  like  milk  and  eggs,  by  means  of 
money.  Cyril  had  held  several  interviews  with  them, 
in  which  he  had  at  first  delicately  intimated,  and  then 
explicitly  declared,  that  the  situation  could  not  be  pro- 
longed. The  two  men  had  been  able  to  get  the  Altrurian 
point  of  view  in  some  measure,  and  so  had  Lady  Moors, 

198 


THEOUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

but  Mrs.  Thrall  had  remained  stiffly  obtuse  and  ob- 
stinate, and  it  was  in  despair  of  bringing  her  to  terms 
without  resorting  to  rescue  that  he  had  summoned  us  to 
help  him. 

It  was  not  a  pleasant  job,  but  of  course  we  could  not 
refuse,  and  we  agreed  that  as  soon  as  we  had  caught  a 
nap,  and  had  a  bite  of  breakfast  we  would  go  over  to 
their  camp  with  Cyril  and  his  wife,  and  see  what  we 
could  do  with  the  obnoxious  woman.  I  confess  that  I 
had  some  little  consolation  in  the  hope  that  I  should 
see  her  properly  humbled. 


XI 


Mr.  Thrall  and  Lord  i\roors  must  have  seen  ns 
coming,  for  they  met  ns  at  the  door  of  the  tent  with- 
out the  intervention  of  the  footman,  and  gave  us  quite 
as  much  welcome  as  we  could  expect  in  our  mis- 
sion, so  disagreeable  all  round.  Mr.  Thrall  was  as 
fatherly  with  me  as  before,  and  Lord  Moors  was  as 
polite  to  Cyril  and  Mrs.  Chrysostom  as  could  have 
been  wished.  In  fact  he  and  Cyril  were  a  sort  of  ac- 
quaintances from  the  time  of  Cyril's  visit  to  England 
where  he  met  the  late  Earl  Moors,  the  father  of  the 
present  peer,  in  some  of  his  visits  to  Toynbee  Hall,  and 
the  Whitechapel  Settlements.  The  earl  was  very  much 
interested  in  the  slums,  perhaps  because  he  was  rather 
poor  himself,  if  not  quite  slummy.  The  son  was  then 
at  the  university,  and  Avhen  he  came  out  and  into  his 
title  he  so  far  shared  his  father's  tastes  that  he  came  to 
America ;  it  was  not  slumming,  exactly,  biit  a  nobleman 
no  doubt  feels  it  to  be  something  like  it.  After  a 
little  while  in  N'ew  York  he  went  out  to  Colorado, 
where  so  many  needy  noblemen  bring  up,  and  there  he 
met  the  Thralls,  and  fell  in  love  with  the  girl.  Cyril 
had  understood — or  rather  Mrs.  Cyril, — that  it  was 
a  love  -  match  on  both  sides,  but  on  Mrs.  Thrall's 
side  it  was  business.  He  did  not  even  speak  of  settle- 
ments— the  English  are  so  romantic  wlien  they  are 
romantic !  —  but  Mr.  Thrall  saw  to  all  that,  and  tlio 
young  people  were  married  after  a  very  short  court- 
ship.    They  spent  their  honeymoon  partly  in  Colorado 

200 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

Springs  and  partly  in  San  Francisco,  where  the 
Thralls'  yacht  was  lying,  and  then  they  set  out  on  a 
voyage  round  the  world,  making  stops  at  the  interesting 
places,  and  bringing  up  on  the  beach  of  the  Seventh 
Region  of  Altruria,  en  route  for  the  eastern  coast  of 
South  America.  From  that  time  on,  Cyril  said,  we 
knew  their  history. 

After  Mr.  Thrall  had  shaken  hands  tenderly  with 
me,  and  cordially  with  Aristides,  he  said,  "  Won't  you 
all  come  inside  and  have  breakfast  with  us  ?  My  wife 
and  daughter  " — 

"  Thank  you,  Mr,  Thrall,"  Cyril  answered  for  us, 
"  we  will  sit  down  here,  if  you  please ;  and  as  your 
ladies  are  not  used  to  business,  we  will  not  ask  you  to 
disturb  them." 

"  I'm  sure  Lady  Moors,"  the  young  nobleman  began, 
but  Cyril  waved  him  silent. 

"  We  shall  be  glad  later,  but  not  now !  Gentlemen, 
I  have  asked  my  friends  Aristides  Homos  and  Eveleth 
Homos  to  accompany  my  wife  and  me  this  morning  be- 
cause Eveleth  is  an  American,  and  will  understand 
your  position,  and  he  has  lately  been  in  America  and 
will  be  able  to  clarify  the  situation  from  both  sides. 
We  wish  you  to  believe  that  we  are  approaching 
you  in  the  friendliest  spirit,  and  that  nothing 
could  be  more  painful  to  us  than  to  seem  inhospi- 
table." 

"  Then  why,"  the  old  man  asked,  with  business-like 
promptness,  "  do  you  object  to  our  presence  here  ?  I 
don't  believe  I  get  your  idea." 

"  Because  the  spectacle  which  your  life  offers  is  con- 
trary to  good  morals,  and  as  faithful  citizens  we  can- 
not countenance  it." 

"  But  in  what  way  is  our  life  immoral  ?  I  have 
always  thought  that  I  was  a  good  citizen  at  home;  at 

201 


THROUGH  THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

least  I  can't  remember  having  been  arrested  for  dis- 
orderly conduct." 

He  smiled  at  me,  as  if  I  should  appreciate  the  joke, 
and  it  hurt  me  to  keep  grave,  but  suspecting  what  a  bad 
time  he  was  going  to  have,  I  thought  I  had  better  not 
join  him  in  any  levity. 

"  I  quite  conceive  you,"  Cyril  replied.  "  But  you 
present  to  our  people,  who  are  offended  by  it,  the  spec- 
tacle of  dependence  upon  hireling  service  for  your  daily 
comfort  and  convenience." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,"  Mr.  Thrall  returned,  "  don't 
we  pay  for  it  ?  Do  our  servants  object  to  rendering 
us  this  service  ?" 

"  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  case ;  or,  rather, 
it  makes  it  worse.  The  fact  that  your  servants  do  not 
object  shows  how  completely  they  are  depraved  by 
usage.  We  should  not  object  if  they  served  you  from 
affection,  and  if  you  repaid  them  in  kindness ;  but  the 
fact  that  you  think  you  have  made  them  a  due  return 
by  giving  them  money  shows  how  far  from  the  right 
ideal  in  such  a  matter  the  whole  capitalistic  world  is." 

Here,  to  my  gi*eat  delight,  Aristides  spoke  up: 

"  If  the  American  practice  were  half  as  depraving 
as  it  ought  logically  to  be  in  their  conditions,  their 
social  system  would  drop  to  pieces.  It  was  always 
astonishing  to  me  that  a  people  with  their  facilities  for 
evil,  their  difficulties  for  good,  should  remain  so  kind 
and  just  and  pure." 

"  That  is  what  I  understood  from  your  letters  to 
me,  my  dear  Aristides.  I  am  willing  to  leave  the  gen- 
eral argument  for  the  present.  But  I  should  like  to 
ask  Mr.  Thrall  a  question,  and  I  hope  it  won't  be 
offensive." 

Mr.  Thrall  smiled.  "  At  any  rate  I  promise  not  to 
be  offended." 

202 


THEOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

"  You  are  a  very  rich  man  ?" 

"  Much  richer  than  I  would  like  to  be." 

"  How  rich  ?" 

"  Seventy  millions ;  eighty ;  a  hundred ;  three  hun- 
dred; I  don't  just  know." 

"  I  don't  supjDose  you've  always  felt  your  great 
wealth  a  great  blessing?" 

"  A  blessing  ?  There  have  been  times  when  I  felt 
it  a  millstone  hanged  about  my  neck,  and  could  have 
wished  nothing  so  much  as  that  I  were  thro^vn  into 
the  sea.  Man,  you  don't  Tcnow  what  a  curse  I  have 
felt  my  money  to  be  at  such  times.  When  I  have  given 
it  away,  as  I  have  by  millions  at  a  time,  I  have  never 
been  sure  that  I  was  not  doing  more  harm  than  good 
with  it.  I  have  hired  men  to  seek  out  good  objects  for 
me,  and  I  have  tried  my  best  to  find  for  myself  causes 
and  institutions  and  persons  who  might  be  helped  with- 
out hindering  others  as  worthy,  but  sometimes  it  seems 
as  if  every  dollar  of  my  money  carried  a  blight  with 
it,  and  infected  whoever  touched  it  with  a  moral  pesti- 
lence. It  has  reached  a  sum  where  the  wildest  profli- 
gate couldn't  spend  it,  and  it  grows  and  grows.  It's 
as  if  it  were  a  rising  flood  that  had  touched  my  lips, 
and  would  go  over  my  head  before  I  could  reach  the 
shore.  I  believe  I  got  it  honestly,  and  I  have  tried 
to  share  it  with  those  whose  labor  earned  it  for  me. 
I  have  founded  schools  and  hospitals  and  homes  for 
old  men  and  old  women,  and  asylums  for  children,  and 
the  blind,  and  deaf,  and  dumb,  and  halt,  and  mad. 
^Vlierever  I  have  found  one  of  my  old  workmen  in 
need,  and  I  have  looked  personally  into  the  matter,  I 
have  provided  for  him  fully,  short  of  pauperization. 
Where  I  have  heard  of  some  gifted  youth,  I  have  had 
him  educated  in  the  line  of  his  gift.  I  have  collected 
a  gallery  of  works  of  art,  and  opened  it  on  Sundays 

203 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

as  well  as  week-days  to  the  public  free.  If  there  is  a 
story  of  famine,  far  or  near,  I  send  food  by  the  ship- 
load. If  there  is  any  great  public  calamity,  my  agents 
have  instructions  to  come  to  the  rescue  without  refer- 
ring the  case  to  me.  But  it  is  all  useless !  The  money 
grows  and  grows,  and  I  begin  to  feel  that  my  efforts 
to  employ  it  wisely  and  wholesomely  are  making  me  a 
public  laughing-stock  as  well  as  an  easy  mark  for  every 
swindler  with  a  job  or  a  scheme."  lie  turned  abrupt- 
ly to  me.  "  But  you  must  often  have  heard  the  same 
from  my  old  friend  Strange.  We  used  to  talk  these 
things  over  together,  when  our  money  was  not  the  heap 
that  mine  is  now;  and  it  seems  to  me  I  can  hear  his 
voice  saying  the  very  words  I  have  been  using." 

I,  too,  seemed  to  hear  his  voice  in  the  words,  and  it 
was  as  if  speaking  from  his  grave. 

I  looked  at  Aristides,  and  read  compassion  in  his  dear 
face;  but  the  face  of  Cyril  remained  severe  and  ju- 
dicial. He  said :  "  Then,  if  what  you  say  is  true,  you 
cannot  think  it  a  hardship  if  we  remove  your  burden 
for  the  time  you  remain  ^dth  us.  I  have  consulted 
with  the  ISFational  and  Regional  as  well  as  the  Com- 
munal authorities,  and  we  cannot  let  you  continue  to 
live  in  the  manner  you  are  living  here.  You  must  pay 
your  way." 

"I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  do  that,"  Mr.  Thrall 
returned,  more  cheerfully.  "  We  have  not  a  great  deal 
of  cash  in  hand,  but  I  can  give  you  my  check  on  London 
or  Paris  or  N"ew  York." 

"  In  Altruria,"  Cyril  returned,  "we  have  no  use  for 
money.  You  must  yay  your  way  as  soon  as  your  pres- 
ent provision  from  your  yacht  is  exhausted." 

Mr.  Thrall  turned  a  dazed  look  on  the  young  lord, 
who  suggested :  "  I  don't  think  we  follow  you.  How 
can  Mr.  Thrall  pay  his  way  except  with  money?" 

204 


THEOUGH   THE   EYE    OF   THE   NEEDLE 

"  He  must  pay  with  worTc.  As  soon  as  you  come 
npon  the  neighbors  here  for  the  necessities  of  life  you 
must  all  work.  To-morrow  or  the  next  day  or  next  week 
at  the  furthest  you  must  go  to  work,  or  you  must  starve." 
Then  he  came  out  with  that  text  of  Scripture  which  had 
been  so  efficient  with  the  crew  of  the  Little  Sally:  "For 
even  when  we  w^ere  with  you  this  we  commanded  you, 
that  if  any  would  not  work  neither  should  he  eat." 

Lord  Moors  seemed  very  interested,  and  not  so  much 
surprised  as  I  had  expected.  "  Yes,  I  have  often 
thought  of  that  passage  and  of  its  susceptibility  to  a 
simpler  interpretation  than  we  usually  give  it.    But — " 

"  There   is   but   one   interpretation   of  which   it   is 
susceptible,"   Cyril  interru]3ted.      "  The  apostle  gives 
that  interpretation  when  he  prefaces  the  text  with  the 
words,  '  For  yourselves  know  how  you  ought  to  follow 
us ;  for  we  behaved  not  ourselves  disorderly  among  you. 
ISTeither  did  we  eat  any  man's  bread  for  nought;  but 
ivrouglit  with  travail  night  and  day,  that  we  might  not 
be  chargeable  to  any  of  you:  not  because  we  have  not; 
power,  but  to  make  ourselves  an  ensample  unto  you  toj 
follow  us.'    The  whole  economy  of  Altruria  is  founded  i 
on  these  passages."  • 

"Literally?" 

"  Literally." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,"  the  young  lord  reasoned,  "  you 
surely  do  not  wrench  the  text  from  some  such  meaning 
as  that  if  a  man  has  money,  he  may  pay  his  way 
without  working  ?" 

"  ISTo,  certainly  not.  But  here  you  have  no  money, 
and  as  we  cannot  suffer  any  to  '  walk  among  us  disorder- 
ly, working  not  at  all,'  we  must  not  exempt  you  from 
our  rule." 


XII 


At  this  point  there  came  a  sound  from  within  the 
marquee  as  of  skirts  sweeping  forward  sharply,  im- 
periously, followed  by  a  softer  frou  -  frou,  and  Mrs. 
Thrall  i3ut  aside  the  curtain  of  the  tent  with  one  hand, 
and  stood  challenging  our  little  Altrurian  group,  while 
Lady  Moors  peered  timidly  at  us  from  over  her  mother's 
shoulder.  I  felt  a  lust  of  battle  rising  in  me  at  sight  of 
that  woman,  and  it  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  to  con- 
trol myself ;  but  in  view  of  the  bad  time  I  knew  she  was 
going  to  have,  I  managed  to  hold  in,  though  I  joined 
very  scantly  in  the  polite  greetings  of  the  Chrysostoms 
and  Aristides,  which  she  ignored  as  if  they  had  been 
the  salutations  of  savages.  She  glared  at  her  husband 
for  explanation,  and  he  said,  gently,  "  This  is  a  dele- 
gation from  the  Altrurian  capital,  my  dear,  and  we 
have  been  talking  over  the  situation  together." 

"  But  what  is  this,"  she  demanded,  "  that  I  have 
heard  about  our  not  paying?  Do  they  accuse  us  of 
not  paying?  You  could  buy  and  sell  the  whole  coun- 
try." 

I  never  imagined  so  much  mildness  could  be  put 
into  such  offensive  words  as  Cyril  managed  to  get  into 
his  answer.  "  We  accuse  you  of  not  paying,  and  we 
do  not  mean  that  you  shall  become  chargeable  to  us. 
The  men  and  women  who  served  you  on  shipboard  have 
been  put  to  work,  and  you  must  go  to  work,  too." 

"  Mr.  Thrall  —  Lord  Moors  • —  have  you  allowed 
these  people  to  treat  you  as  if  you  were  part  of  the 

206 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

ship's  crew  ?  Why  don't  you  give  them  what  they 
want  and  let  them  go  ?  Of  course  it's  some  sort  of 
blackmailing  scheme.  But  you  ought  to  get  rid  of 
them  at  any  cost.  Then  you  can  appeal  to  the  au- 
thorities, and  tell  them  that  you  will  bring  the  matter 
to  the  notice  of  the  government  at  Washington.  They 
must  be  taught  that  they  cannot  insult  x\merican  citi- 
zens with  impunity."  iSTo  one  spoke,  and  she  added, 
"  What  do  they  really  want  ?" 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  her  husband  hesitated,  "  I  hardly 
know  how  to  exjDlain.  But  it  seems  that  they  think 
our  living  here  in  the  way  we  do  is  disorderly,  and — 
and  they  w^ant  us  to  go  to  work,  in  short." 

"  To  work!"  she  shouted. 

"  Yes,  all  of  us.    That  is,  so  I  understand." 

"  What  nonsense !" 

She  looked  at  us  one  after  another,  and  when  her 
eye  rested  on  me,  I  began  to  suspect  that  insolent  as 
she  was  she  was  even  duller;  in  fact,  that  she  was  so 
sodden  in  her  conceit  of  wealth  that  she  was  plain 
stupid.^  So  when  she  said  to  me,  "  You  are  an  Ameri- 
can by  birth,  I  believe.  Can  you  tell  me  the  mean- 
ing of  this  ?"  I  answered : 

"  Cyril  Chrysostom  represents  the  authorities.  If 
he  asks  me  to  speak,  I  will  speak."  Cyril  nodded  at 
me  with  a  smile,  and  I  went  on.  "  It  is  a  very  simple 
matter.  In  Altruria  everybody  works  with  his  hands 
three  hours  a  day.  After  that  he  works  or  not,  as  he 
likes." 

"  What  have  we  to  do  with  that  ?"  she  asked. 

"  The  rule  has  no  exceptions." 

"  But  we  are  not  Altrurians ;  we  are  Americans." 

"  I  am  an  American,  too,  and  I  work  three  hours 
every  day,  unless  I  am  passing  from  one  point  to  an- 
other on  public  business  with  my  husband.  Even 
14  207 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

then  we  prefer  to  stop  during  the  work-hours,  and  help 
in  the  fields,  or  in  the  shops,  or  wherever  we  arc  needed. 
I  left  my  own  mother  at  home  doing  her  kitchen  work 
yesterday  afternoon,  though  it  was  out  of  hours,  and  she 
need  not  have  Avorked." 

"  Very  well,  then,  we  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind, 
neither  I,  nor  my  daughter,  nor  my  husband.  He  has 
worked  hard  all  his  life,  and  he  has  come  away  for  a 
much-needed  rest.  I  am  not  going  to  have  him  break- 
ing himself  down." 

I  could  not  help  suggesting,  "  I  suppose  the  men  at 
work  in  his  mines,  and  mills,  and  on  his  railroads  and 
steamship  lines  are  taking  a  much-needed  rest,  too.  I 
hope  you  are  not  going  to  let  them  break  themselves 
down,  either." 

Aristidcs  gave  me  a  pained  glance,  and  Cyril  and  his 
wife  looked  grave,  but  she  not  quite  so  grave  as  he. 
Lord  Moors  said,  "  We  don't  seem  to  be  getting  on. 
What  Mrs.  Thrall  fails  to  see,  and  I  confess  I  don't 
quite  see  it  myself,  is  that  if  we  are  not  here  in  forma 
'pauperis — " 

"  But  you  arc  here  in  forma  pauperis"  Cyril  inter- 
posed, smilingly. 

"  How  is  that  ?  If  we  are  willing  to  pay — if  Mr. 
Thrall's  credit  is  undeniably  good — " 

"Mr.  Thrall's  credit  is  not  good  in  Altruria;  you 
can  pay  here  only  in  one  currency,  in  the  sweat  of  your 
faces." 

"  You  want  us  to  be  Tolstoys,  I  suppose,"  Mrs. 
Thrall  said,  contemptuously. 

Cyril  replied,  gently,  "  Tlie  endeavor  of  Tolstoy,  in 
capitalistic  conditions,  is  necessarily  dramatic.  Your 
labor  here  will  be  for  your  daily  bread,  and  it  will 
be  real."  The  inner  dulness  of  the  woman  came  into 
her  eyes  again,  and  he  addressed  himself  to  Lord  Moors 

208 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

in  continuing :  "  If  a  company  of  indigent  people 
were  cast  away  on  an  English  coast,  after  you  had 
rendered  them  the  first  aid,  what  should  you  do  ?" 

The  young  man  reflected.  "  I  suppose  we  should 
put  them  in  the  Avay  of  earning  a  living  until  some 
ship  arrived  to  take  them  home." 

"  That  is  merely  what  we  propose  to  do  in  your  case 
here,"  Cyril  said. 

"  But  we  are  not  indigent — " 

"  Yes,  you  are  absolutely  destitute.  You  have 
money  and  credit,  but  neither  has  any  value  in  Al- 
truria.  ISTothing  but  work  or  love  has  any  value  in 
Altruria.  You  cannot  realize  too  clearly  that  you  stand 
before  us  in  forma  pauperis.  But  we  require  of  you 
nothing  that  we  do  not  require  of  ourselves.  In  Al- 
truria every  one  is  poor  till  he  pays  with  work;  then, 
for  that  time,  he  is  rich;  and  he  cannot  otherwise  lift 
himself  above  charity,  which,  except  in  the  case  of 
the  helpless,  we  consider  immoral.  Your  life  here  of- 
fers a  very  corrupting  spectacle.  You  are  manifestly 
living  without  work,  and  you  are  served  by  people 
whose  hire  you  are  not  able  to  pay." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  Mr.  Thrall  said  at  this  point,  with 
a  gentle  smile,  "  I  think  they  are  willing  to  take  the 
chances  of  being  paid." 

"We  cannot  suffer  them  to  do  so.  At  present  we 
know  of  no  means  of  your  getting  away  from  Altru- 
ria. We  have  disused  our  custom  of  annually  con- 
necting with  the  Australasian  steamers,  and  it  may 
be  years  before  a  vessel  touches  on  our  coast.  'A  ship 
sailed  for  Boston  some  months  ago,  with  the  promise 
of  returning  in  order  that  the  crew  may  cast  in  their 
lot  with  us  permanently.  We  do  not  confide  in  that 
promise,  and  you  must  therefore  conform  to  our  rule 
of  life.      Understand  clearly  that  the  willingness  of 

209 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

your  servants  to  serve  you  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  matter.  That  is  part  of  the  falsity  in  which  the 
whole  capitalistic  world  lives.  As  the  matter  stands 
with  you,  here,  there  is  as  much  reason  why  you  should 
serve  them  as  they  should  serve  you.  If  on  their  side 
they  should  elect  to  serve  you  from  love,  they  will  be 
allowed  to  do  so.  Otherwise,  you  and  they  must  go  to 
work  with  the  neighbors  at  the  tasks  they  will  assign 
you." 

"  Do  you  mean  at  once  V  Lord  Moors  asked. 

"  The  hours  of  the  obligatory  labors  are  nearly  past 
for  the  day.  But  if  you  are  interested  in  learning  what 
you  will  be  set  to  doing  to-morrow,  the  Communal  au- 
thorities will  be  pleased  to  instruct  you  during  the 
Voluntaries  this  afternoon.  You  may  be  sure  that  in 
no  case  will  your  weakness  or  inexj)erience  be  over- 
tasked. Your  histories  will  be  studied,  and  appropri- 
ate work  will  be  assigned  to  each  of  you." 

Mrs.  Thrall  burst  out,  "  If  you  think  I  am  going 
into  my  kitchen — " 

Then  I  burst  in,  "  I  left  my  mother  in  her  kitchen !" 

"  And  a  very  fit  place  for  her,  I  dare  say,"  she 
retorted,  but  Lady  Moors  caught  her  mother's  arm  and 
murmured,  in  much  the  same  distress  as  showed  in  my 
husband's  mild  eyes,  "  Mother !  Mother !"  and  drew 
her  within. 


XIII 

Well,  Dolly,  I  suppose  you  will  think  it  was  pretty 
hard  for  those  people,  and  when  I  got  over  my  temper 
I  confess  that  I  felt  sorry  for  the  two  men,  and  for  the 
young  girl  whom  the  Altrurians  would  not  call  Lady 
Moors,  but  addressed  by  her  Christian  name,  as  they 
did  each  of  the  American  party  in  his  or  her  turn; 
even  Mrs.  Thrall  had  to  answer  to  Kebecca.  They 
were  all  rather  bewildered,  and  so  were  the  butler  and 
the  footmen,  and  the  chef  and  his  helpers,  and  the 
ladies'  maids.  These  were  even  more  shocked  than 
those  they  considered  their  betters,  and  I  quite  took 
to  my  affections  Lord  Moors'  man  Robert,  who  was 
in  an  awe-stricken  way  trying  to  get  some  light  from 
me  on  the  situation.  He  contributed  as  much  as  any 
one  to  bring  about  a  peaceful  submission  to  the  inevit- 
able, for  he  had  been  a  near  witness  of  what  had  hap- 
pened to  the  crew  when  they  attempted  their  rebellion 
to  the  authorities ;  but  he  did  not  profess  to  understand 
the  matter,  and  from  time  to  time  he  seemed  to  question 
the  reality  of  it. 

The  two  masters,  as  you  would  call  Mr.  Thrall  and 
Lord  Moors,  both  took  an  attitude  of  amiable  curiosity 
towards  their  fate,  and  accepted  it  with  interest  when 
they  had  partly  chosen  and  partly  been  chosen  by  it. 
Mr.  Thrall  had  been  brought  up  on  a  farm  till  his 
ambition  carried  him  into  the  world;  and  he  found 
the  light  gardening  assigned  him  for  his  first  task  by 
no  means  a  hardship.     He  was  rather  critical  of  the 

211 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

Altrurian  style  of  hoc  at  first,  but  after  lie  got  the 
hang  of  it,  as  he  said,  he  liked  it  better,  and  during 
the  three  hours  of  the  first  morning's  Obligatorics,  his 
ardor  to  cut  all  the  weeds  out  at  once  had  to  be  re- 
strained rather  than  prompted.     He  could  not  be  per- 
suaded  to   take   five   minutes   for    rest   out   of   every 
twenty,  and  he  could  not  get  over  his  life-long  habit  of 
working  against  time.     The  Altrurians  tried  to  make 
him    understand    that    here    people    must    not    work 
against  time,  but  must  always  work  with  it,  so  as  to 
have  enough  work  to  do  each  day ;  otherwise  they  must 
remain  idle  during  the  Obligatorics  and  tend  to  de- 
moralize the  workers.      It   seemed  that   Lady  Moors 
had  a  passion  for  gardening,  and  she  was  set  to  work 
with  her  father  on  the  border  of  flowers  surrounding 
the  vegetable  patch  he  was  hoeing.     She  knew  about 
flowers,  and  from  her  childhood  had  amused  herself 
by  growing  them,  and  so  far  from  thinking  it  a  hard- 
ship or  disgrace  to  dig,  she  was  delighted  to  get  at 
them.    It  was  easy  to  see  that  she  and  her  father  were 
cronies,  and  when  I  Avent  round  in  the  morning  with 
Aristides  to  ask  if  we  could  do  anything  for  them,  we 
heard  them  laughing  and  talking  gayly  together  before 
we  reached  them.    They  said  they  had  looked  their  job 
(as  Mr.   Thrall  called  it)   over  the  afternoon  before 
during  the   Voluntaries,    and   had   decided   how   they 
would  manage,  and  the}'^  had  set  to  work  that  morning 
as  soon  as  they  had  breakfast.    Lady  Moors  had  helped 
her  mother  get  the  breakfast,  and  she  seemed  to  regard 
the  whole  affair  as  a  picnic,  though  from  the  look  of 
Mrs.  Thrall's  back,  as  she  turned  it  on  me,  when  I 
saw  her  coming  to  the  door  of  the  marquee  with  a 
coffee-pot  in  her  hand,  I  decided  tliat  she  was  not  yet 
resigned  to  her  new  lot  in  life. 

Lord  Moors  was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  and  I  felt  some 
212 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

little  curiosity  about  liiiu  which  was  not  quite  anxiety. 
Later,  as  we  were  going  back  to  our  quarters  in  the 
village,  we  saw  him  working  on  the  road  with  a  party 
of  Altrurians  who  were  repairing  a  washout  from  an 
overnight   rain.      They   were   having   all   kinds   of   a 
time,  except  a  bad  time,  trying  to  understand  each 
other  in  their  want  of  a  common  language.     It  ap- 
peared that  the  Altrurians  were  impressed  with  his 
knowledge  of  road-making,  and  were  doing  something 
which  he  had  indicated  to  them  by  signs.     We  offered 
our   services    as   interpreters,    and   then   he   modestly 
owned  in  defence  of  his  suggestions  that  when  he  was 
at  Oxford  he  had  been  one  of  the  band  of  enthusiastic 
undergraduates   who   had  built   a   piece   of   highway 
under    Mr.    Ruskin's    direction.      The    Altrurians    re- 
garded his  suggestions  as  rather  amateurish,  but  they 
were  glad  to  act  upon  them,  when  they  could,  out  of 
pure  good  feeling  and  liking  for  him;  and  from  time 
to  time  they  rushed  upon  him  and  shook  hands  with 
him;  their  affection  did  not  go  further,  and  he  was 
able  to  stand  the  handshaking,  though  he  told  us  he 
hoped  they  would  not  feel  it  necessary  to  keep  it  up, 
for  it  was  really  only  a  very  simple  matter  like  put- 
ting a  culvert  in  place  of  a  sluice  which  they  had  been 
using  to  carry  the  water  off.     They  understood  what 
he  was  saying,  from  his  gestures,  and  they  crowded 
round  us  to  ask  whether  he  would  like  to  join  them 
during  the  Voluntaries  that  afternoon,  in  getting  the 
stone  out  of  a  neighboring  quarry,  and  putting  in  the 
culvert  at  once.     We  explained  to  him,  and  he  said 
he  should  be  very  happy.     x\ll  the  time  he  was  look- 
ing at  them  admirably,  and  he  said,  "  It's  really  very 
good,"  and  we  understood  that  he  meant  their  classic 
working-dress,  and  when  he  added,  "  I  should  really 
fancy  trying  it  myself  one  day,"  and  we  told  them, 

213 


THKOUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

they  wanted  to  go  and  bring  him  an  Altrurian  cos- 
tnme  at  once.  But  we  persuaded  them  not  to  urge 
him,  and  in  fact  he  looked  very  fit  for  his  work  in  his 
yachting  flannels. 

I  talked  him  over  a  long  time  with  Aristides,  and 
tried  to  get  his  point  of  view.  I  decided  finally  that  an 
Englishman  of  his  ancient  lineage  and  high  breeding, 
having  voluntarily  come  down  to  the  level  of  an  Amer- 
ican millionaire  by  marriage,  could  not  feel  that  he 
was  lowering  himself  any  further  by  working  with  his 
hands.  In  fact,  he  probably  felt  that  his  merely  un- 
dertaking a  thing  dignified  the  thing;  but  of  course  this 
was  only  speculation  on  my  part,  and  he  may  have  been 
resigned  to  working  for  a  living  because  like  poor  peo- 
ple elsewhere  he  was  obliged  to  do  it.  Aristides  thought 
there  was  a  good  deal  in  that  idea,  but  it  is  hard  for  an 
Altrurian  to  conceive  of  being  ashamed  of  work,  for 
they  regard  idleness  as  pauperism,  and  they  would 
look  upon  our  leisure  classes,  so  far  as  we  have  them, 
very  much  as  we  look  upon  tramps,  only  they  would 
make  the  excuse  for  our  tramps  that  they  often  cannot 
get  work. 

We  had  far  more  trouble  with  the  servants  than  we 
had  with  the  masters  in  making  them  understand  that 
they  were  to  go  to  work  in  the  fields  and  shops,  quite 
as  the  crew  of  the  yacht  had  done.  Some  of  them  re- 
fused outright,  and  stuck  to  their  refusal  until  the  vil- 
lage electrician  rescued  them  with  the  sort  of  net  and 
electric  filament  which  had  been  employed  with  the 
recalcitrant  sailors;  others  were  brought  to  a  better 
mind  by  withholding  food  from  them  till  they  were  will- 
ing to  pay  for  it  by  working.  You  will  be  sorry  to  learn, 
Dolly,  that  the  worst  of  the  rebels  were  the  ladies'  maids, 
who,  for  the  honor  of  our  sex,  ought  not  to  have  re- 
quired the  application  of  the  net  and  filament ;  but  they 

214 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

had  not  such  appetites  as  the  men-servants,  and  did  not 
mind  starving  so  much.  However,  in  a  very  short  time 
they  were  at  work,  too,  and  more  or  less  resigned, 
though  they  did  not  profess  to  understand  it. 

You  will  think  me  rather  fickle,  I  am  afraid,  but 
after  I  made  the  personal  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Thrall's 
chef,  Anatole,  I  found  my  affections  dividing  them- 
selves between  him  and  his  lordship's  man  Robert,  my 
first  love.  But  Anatole  was  magnificent,  a  gaunt,  lit- 
tle, aquiline  man,  with  a  branching  mustache  and  gal- 
lant goatee,  and  having  held  an  exalted  position  at  a  sal- 
ary of  ten  thousand  a  year  from  Mr.  Thrall,  he  could 
easily  stoop  from  it,  while  poor  Robert  was  tormented 
with  misgivings,  not  for  himself,  but  for  Lord  and  Lady 
Moors  and  Mr.  Thrall.  It  became  my  pleasing  office  to 
explain  the  situation  to  Monsieur  Anatole,  who,  when 
he  imagined  it,  gave  a  cry  of  joy,  and  confessed,  what 
he  had  never  liked  to  tell  Mr.  Thrall,  knowing  the 
misconceptions  of  Americans  on  the  subject,  that  he 
had  belonged  in  France  to  a  party  of  which  the  po- 
litical and  social  ideal  was  almost  identical  with  that 
of  the  Altrurians.  He  asked  for  an  early  opportunity 
of  addressing  the  village  Assembly  and  explaining  this 
delightful  circumstance  in  public,  and  he  profited  by 
the  occasion  to  embrace  the  first  Altrurian  we  met  and 
kiss  him  on  both  cheeks. 

His  victim  was  a  messenger  from  the  Commune,  who 
had  been  sent  to  inquire  whether  Anatole  had  a  prefer- 
ence as  to  the  employment  which  should  be  assigned 
to  him,  and  I  had  to  reply  for  him  that  he  was  a  man  of 
science ;  that  he  would  be  happy  to  serve  the  republic  in 
whatever  capacity  his  concitizens  chose,  but  that  he 
thought  he  could  be  most  useful  in  studying  the  comes- 
tible vegetation  of  the  neighborhood,  and  the  substi- 
tution of  the  more  succulent  herbs  for  the  flesh-meats 

215 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

to  tlie  use  of  which,  ho  understood  from  me,  the  Altru- 
rians  were  opposed.  In  the  course  of  his  preparation 
for  the  role  of  clief,  which  he  had  played  both  in  Trance 
and  America,  he  had  made  a  specialty  of  edible  fun- 
gi; and  the  result  was  that  Anatole  was  set  to  mush- 
rooming, and  up  to  this  moment  he  has  discovered  no 
less  than  six  species  hitherto  unknown  to  the  Altru- 
rian  table.  This  has  added  to  their  dietary  in  several 
important  particulars,  the  fungi  he  has  discovered  be- 
ing among  those  highly  decorative  and  extremely 
poisonous  -  looking  sorts  which  flourish  in  the  deep 
woods  and  offer  themselves  almost  inexhaustibly  in 
places  near  the  ruins  of  the  old  capitalistic  cities, 
where  hardly  any  other  foods  will  grow.  Anatole  is 
very  proud  of  his  success,  and  at  more  than  one  Com- 
munal Assembly  has  lectured  upon  his  discoveries  and 
treated  of  their  preparation  for  the  table,  with  sketches 
of  them  as  he  found  them  growing,  colored  after  nat- 
ure by  his  own  hand.  lie  has  himself  become  a  fanati- 
cal vegetarian,  having,  he  confesses,  always  had  a  secret 
loathing  for  the  meats  he  stooped  to  direct  the  cooking 
of  among  the  French  and  American  bourgeoisie  in  the 
days  which  he  already  looks  back  upon  as  among  the 
most  benighted  of  his  history. 


XIV 

The  scene  has  changed  again,  DoUj,  and  six  months 
have  elapsed  without  yonr  knowing  it.  Aristides  and 
I  long  ago  completed  the  tour  of  the  capitals  which  the 
Thrall  incident  interrupted,  and  we  have  been  set- 
tled for  many  months  in  the  Maritime  Capital,  where 
it  has  been  decided  we  had  better  fill  out  the  first  two 
years  of  my  husband's  repatriation.  I  have  become 
more  and  more  thoroughly  naturalized,  and  if  I  am 
not  yet  a  perfect  Altrurian,  it  is  not  for  not  loving 
better  and  better  the  best  Altrurian  of  them  all,  and 
not  for  not  admiring  and  revering  this  wonderful 
civilization. 

During  the  Obligatories  of  the  forenoons  I  do  my 
housework  with  my  own  hands,  and  as  my  mother  lives 
Avith  us  we  have  long  talks  together,  and  try  to  make 
each  other  believe  that  the  American  conditions  were  a 
sort  of  nightmare  from  which  we  have  happily  awak- 
ened. You  see  how  terribly  frank  I  am,  my  dear,  but  if 
I  were  not,  I  could  not  make  you  understand  how  I  feel. 
My  heart  aches  for  you,  there,  and  the  more  because 
I  know  that  you  do  not  want  to  live  differently,  that 
you  are  proud  of  your  economic  and  social  illogicality, 
and  that  you  think  America  is  the  best  country  under 
the  sun !  I  can  never  persuade  you,  but  if  you  could 
only  come  here,  once,  and  see  for  yourselves !  Seeing 
would  be  believing,  and  believing  would  be  the  wish 
never  to  go  away,  but  to  be  at  home  here  always. 

I  can  imagine  your  laughing  at  me  and  asking  Mr. 
217 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

Makely  whether  the  Little  Sally  has  ever  returned  to 
Altruria,  and  how  I  can  account  for  the  captain's  fail- 
ure to  keep  his  word.  I  confess  that  is  a  sore  point 
with  me.  It  is  now  more  than  a  year  since  she  sailed, 
and,  of  course,  we  have  not  had  a  sign  or  whisper  from 
her.  I  could  almost  wish  that  the  crew  were  willing  to 
stay  away,  but  I  am  afraid  it  is  the  captain  who  is 
keeping  them.  It  has  become  almost  a  mania  with  me, 
and  every  morning,  the  first  thing  when  I  wake,  I  go 
for  my  before-breakfast  walk  along  the  marble  terrace 
that  overlooks  the  sea,  and  scan  the  empty  rounding  for 
the  recreant  ship.  I  do  not  want  to  think  so  badly  of 
human  nature,  as  I  must  if  the  Little  Sally  never  comes 
back,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  not  blame  me  if  I  should 
like  her  to  bring  me  some  word  from  you.  I  know 
that  if  she  ever  reached  Boston  you  got  my  letters 
and  presents,  and  that  you  have  been  writing  me  as 
faithfully  as  I  have  been  writing  you,  and  what  a  sheaf 
of  letters  from  you  there  will  be  if  her  masts  ever  pierce 
the  horizon!  To  tell  the  truth,  I  do  long  for  a  little 
American  news!  Do  you  still  keep  on  murdering  and 
divorcing,  and  drowning,  and  burning,  and  mommick- 
ing,  and  maiming  people  by  sea  and  land  ?  Has  there 
been  any  war  since  I  left?  Is  the  financial  panic  as 
great  as  ever,  and  is  there  as  much  hunger  and  cold? 
I  know  that  wliatever  your  crimes  and  calamities  are, 
your  heroism  and  martyrdom,  your  wild  generosity 
and  self-devotion,  are  equal  to  them. 

It  is  no  use  to  pretend  that  in  little  over  a  year  I  can 
have  become  accustomed  to  the  eventlessness  of  life  in 
Altruria.  I  go  on  for  a  good  many  days  together  and 
do  not  miss  the  exciting  incidents  you  have  in  America, 
and  then  suddenly  I  am  wolfishly  hungry  for  the  old 
sensations,  just  as  now  and  then  I  luant  meat,  though 
I  know  I  should  loathe  the  sight  and  smell  of  it  if  I 

218 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OE  THE  NEEDLE 

came  within  reach  of  it.  You  would  laugh,  I  dare  say,  \ 
at  the  Altrurian  papers,  and  what  they  print  for  news. 
Most  of  the  space  is  taken  up  with  poetry,  and  charac- 
ter study  in  the  form  of  fiction,  and  scientific  inquiry 
of  every  kind.  But  now  and  then  there  is  a  report 
of  the  production  of  a  new  play  in  one  of  the  capitals ; 
or  an  account  of  an  open  -  air  j)astoral  in  one  of  the 
communes;  or  the  progress  of  some  public  work,  like 
the  extension  of  the  ISTational  Colonnade;  or  the  won- 
derful liberation  of  some  section  from  malaria;  or  the 
story  of  some  good  man  or  woman's  life,  ended  at  the 
patriarchal  age  they  reach  here.  They  also  print  se- 
lected passages  of  capitalistic  history,  from  the  earli- 
est to  the  latest  times,  showing  how  in  war  and  pesti- 
lence and  needless  disaster  the  world  outside  Altruria 
remains  essentially  the  same  that  it  was  at  the  begin- 
ning of  civilization,  with  some  slight  changes  through 
the  changes  of  human  nature  for  the  better  in  its  slow 
approaches  to  the  Altrurian  ideal.  In  noting  these 
changes  the  writers  get  some  sad  amusement  out  of 
the  fact  that  the  capitalistic  world  believes  human 
nature  cannot  be  changed,  though  cannibalism  and 
slavery  and  polygamy  have  all  been  extirpated  in  the 
so-called  Christian  countries,  and  these  things  were  once 
human  nature,  which  is  always  changing,  while  brute 
nature  remains  the  same.  itsTow  and  then  they  touch 
very  guardedly  on  that  slavery,  worse  than  war,  worse 
than  any  sin  or  shame  conceivable  to  the  Altrurians, 
in  which  uncounted  myriads  of  women  are  held  and 
bought  and  sold,  and  they  have  to  note  that  in  this 
the  capitalistic  world  is  without  the  hope  of  better 
things.  You  know  what  I  mean,  Dolly;  every  good 
woman  knows  the  little  she  cannot  help  knowing; 
but  if  you  had  ever  inquired  into  that  horror,  as  I  once 
felt  obliged  to  do,  you  would  think  it  the  blackest  hor- 

219 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

ror  of  the  state  of  things  where  it  must  always  exist 
as  long  as  there  are  riches  and  poverty.  Now,  when 
so  many  things  in  America  seem  bad  dreams,  I  cannot 
take  refnge  in  thinking  that  a  bad  dream;  the  reality 
was  so  deeply  burnt  into  my  brain  by  the  words  of 
some  of  the  slaves ;  and  when  I  think  of  it  I  want  to 
grovel  on  the  ground  with  my  mouth  in  the  dust.  But 
I  know  this  can  only  distress  you,  for  you  cannot  get 
away  from  the  fact  as  I  have  got  away  from  it;  that 
there  it  is  in  the  next  street,  perhaps  in  the  next  house, 
and  that  any  night  when  you  leave  your  home  with 
your  husband,  you  may  meet  it  at  the  first  step  from 
your  door. 

You  can  very  well  imagine  what  a  godsend  the 
reports  of  Aristides  and  the  discussions  of  them  have 
been  to  our  papers.  They  were  always  taken  down 
stenographically,  and  they  were  printed  like  dialogue,  so 
that  at  a  little  distance  you  would  take  them  at  first  for 
murder  trials  or  divorce  cases,  but  when  you  look 
closer,  you  find  them  questions  and  answers  about  the 
state  of  things  in  America.  There  are  often  humor- 
ous passages,  for  the  Altrurians  are  inextinguishably 
amused  by  our  illogicality,  and  what  they  call  the  per- 
petual non  sequiturs  of  our  lives  and  laws.  In  the 
discussions  they  frequently  burlesque  these,  but  as  they 
present  them  they  seem  really  beyond  the  wildest  bur- 
lesque. Perhaps  you  will  be  surprised  to  know  that 
a  nation  of  working-people  like  these  feel  more  com- 
passion than  admiration  for  our  working-people.  They 
pity  them,  but  they  blame  them  more  than  they  blame 
the  idle  rich  for  the  existing  condition  of  things  in 
America.  They  ask  why,  if  the  American  workmen 
are  in  the  immense  majority,  they  do  not  vote  a  true 
and  just  state,  and  why  they  go  on  striking  and  starving 
their  families  instead ;  they  cannot  distinguish  in  prin- 

220 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

ciple  between  the  confederations  of  labor  and  the  com- 
binations of  capital,  between  the  trusts  and  the  trades- 
unions,  and  they  condemn  even  more  severely  the  op- 
pressions and  abuses  of  the  unions.  My  husband  tries 
to  explain  that  the  unions  are  merely  provisional,  and 
are  a  temporary  means  of  enabling  the  employees  to 
stand  up  against  the  tyranny  of  the  employers,  but 
they  always  come  back  and  ask  him  if  the  workmen 
have  not  most  of  the  votes,  and  if  they  have,  why  they 
do  not  protect  themselves  peacefully  instead  of  or- 
ganizing themselves  in  fighting  shape,  and  making  a 
warfare  of  industry. 

There  is  not  often  anything  so  much  like  news  in  the 
Altrurian  papers  as  the  grounding  of  the  Thrall 
yacht  on  the  coast  of  the  Seventh  Region,  and  the  in- 
cident has  been  treated  and  discussed  in  every  possible 
phase  by  the  editors  and  their  correspondents.  They 
have  been  very  frank  about  it,  as  they  are  about  every- 
thing in  Altruria,  and  they  have  not  concealed  their 
anxieties  about  their  unwelcome  guests.  They  got  on 
without  much  trouble  in  the  case  of  the  few  sailors  of 
the  Little  Sally,  but  the  crew  of  the  Saraband  is  so 
large  that  it  is  a  different  matter.  In  the  first  place, 
they  do  not  like  the  application  of  force,  even  in  the 
mild  electrical  form  in  which  they  employ  it,  and  they 
fear  that  the  effect  with  themselves  will  be  bad,  how- 
ever good  it  is  for  their  guests.  Besides,  they  dread  the 
influence  which  a  number  of  people,  invested  with  the 
charm  of  strangeness,  may  have  with  the  young  men 
and  especially  the  young  girls  of  the  neighborhood. 
The  hardest  thing  the  Altrurians  have  to  grapple  with 
is  feminine  curiosity,  and  the  play  of  this  about  the 
strangers  is  what  they  seek  the  most  anxiously  to  con- 
trol. Of  course,  you  will  think  it  funny,  and  I  must 
say  that  it  seemed  so  to  me  at  first,  but  I  have  come 

221 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

to  think  it  is  serious.  The  Altrurian  girls  are  culti- 
vated and  refined,  but  as  they  have  worked  all  their 
lives  with  their  hands  they  cannot  imagine  the  differ- 
ence that  work  makes  in  Americans;  that  it  coarsens 
and  classes  them,  especially  if  they  have  been  in  im- 
mediate contact  with  rich  people,  and  been  degraded  or 
brutalized  by  the  knowledge  of  the  contempt  in  which 
labor  is  held  among  us  by  those  who  are  not  compelled 
to  it.  Some  of  my  Altrurian  friends  have  talked  it 
over  with  me,  and  I  could  take  their  point  of  view, 
though  secretly  I  could  not  keep  my  poor  American 
feelings  from  being  hurt  when  they  said  that  to  have  a 
large  number  of  people  from  the  capitalistic  world 
thrown  upon  their  hands  was  very  much  as  it  would 
be  with  us  if  we  had  the  same  number  of  Indians,  with 
all  their  tribal  customs  and  ideals,  thrown  upon  our 
hands.  They  say  they  will  not  shirk  their  duty  in  the 
matter,  and  will  study  it  carefully;  but  all  the  same, 
they  wish  the  incident  had  not  happened. 


XV 


I  AM  glad  that  I  was  called  away  from  the  disagree- 
able point  I  left  in  my  last,  and  that  I  have  got  back 
temporarily  to  the  scene  of  the  Altrurianization  of  Mr. 
Thrall  and  his  family.  So  far  as  it  has  gone  it  is 
perfect,  if  I  may  speak  from  the  witness  of  happiness 
in  those  concerned,  except  perhaps  Mrs.  Thrall;  she 
is  as  yet  only  partially  reconstructed,  but  even  she  has 
moments  of  forgetting  her  lost  grandeur  and  of  really 
enjoying  herself  in  her  work.  She  is  an  excellent 
housekeeper,  and  she  has  become  so  much  interested 
in  making  the  marquee  a  simple  home  for  her  family 
that  she  is  rather  j)roud  of  showing  it  off  as  the  effect 
of  her  unaided  efforts.  She  was  allowed  to  cater  to 
them  from  the  canned  meats  brought  ashore  from  the 
yacht  as  long  as  they  would  stand  it,  but  the  wholesome 
open-air  conditions  have  worked  a  wonderful  change 
in  them,  and  neither  Mr.  Thrall  nor  Lord  and  Lady 
Moors  now  have  any  taste  for  such  dishes.  Here  Mrs. 
Thrall's  old-time  skill  as  an  excellent  vegetable  cook, 
when  she  was  the  wife  of  a  young  mechanic,  has  come 
into  play,  and  she  believes  that  she  sets  the  best  table 
in  the  whole  neighborhood,  with  fruits  and  many  sorts 
of  succulents  and  the  everlasting  and  ever-pervading 
mushrooms. 

As  the  Altrurians  do  not  wish  to  annoy  their  invol- 
untary guests,  or  to  interfere  with  their  way  of  life 
where  they  do  not  consider  it  immoral,  their  control 
has  ended  with  setting  them  to  work  for  a  living.  They 
xs  223 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

hav^e  not  asked  tliciii  to  the  communal  refectory,  but, 
as  long  as  they  have  been  content  to  serve  each  other, 
have  allowed  them  their  private  table.  Of  course,  their 
adaptation  to  their  new  way  of  life  has  proceeded  more 
slowly  than  it  otherwise  would,  but  with  the  exception 
of  Mrs.  Thrall  they  are  very  intelligent  people,  and 
I  have  been  charmed  in  talking  the  situation  over 
with  them.  The  trouble  has  not  been  so  great  with 
the  ship's  people,  as  was  feared.  Such  of  these  as 
j  have  imagined  their  stay  here  permanent,  or  wished 
it  to  be  so,  have  been  received  into  the  neighboring 
I  communes,  and  have  taken  the  first  steps  towards 
,  naturalization ;  those  who  look  forward  to  getting 
away  some  time,  or  express  the  wish  for  it,  are  al- 
lowed to  live  in  a  community  of  their  own,  where  they 
are  not  molested  as  long  as  they  work  in  the  three 
hours  of  the  Obligatories.  l^aturally,  they  are  kept  out 
of  mischief,  but  after  their  first  instruction  in  the  ideas 
,  of  public  property  and  the  impossibility  of  enriching 
/  themselves  at  the  expense  of  any  one  else,  they  have  be- 
haved very  well.  The  greatest  trouble  they  ever  gave 
was  in  trapping  and  killing  the  wild  things  for  food; 
but  when  they  were  told  that  this  must  not  be  done, 
and  taught  to  recognize  the  vast  range  of  edible  fungi, 
they  took  not  unwillingly  to  mushrooms  and  the  ranker 
tubers  and  roots,  from  which,  with  unlimited  eggs, 
cheese,  milk,  and  shell-fish,  they  have  constructed  a  diet 
of  which  they  do  not  complain. 

This  brings  me  rather  tangentially  to  Monsieur  Ana- 
tole,  who  has  become  a  fanatical  Altrurian,  and  has 
even  had  to  be  restrained  in  some  of  his  enthusiastic 
plans  for  the  compulsory  naturalization  of  his  fellow 
castaways.  His  value  as  a  scientist  has  been  cordially 
recognized,  and  his  gifts  as  an  artist  in  the  exquisite 
water-color  studies  of  edible  fungi  has  won  his  notice 

224 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

in  the  capital  of  the  Seventh  Regional  where  they  have 
been  shown  at  the  spring  water-color  exhibition.  He 
has  printed  several  poems  in  the  Regional  Gazette,  i 
villanelles,  rondeanx,  and  triolets,  with  accompanying 
versions  of  the  French,  into  Altrurian  by  one  of  the 
first  Altrurian  poets.  This  is  a  widow  of  about  Mon- 
sieur Anatole's  own  age;  and  the  literary  friendship 
between  them  has  ripened  into  something  much  more 
serious.  In  fact  they  are  engaged  to  be  married.  I 
suppose  you  will  laugh  at  this,  Dolly,  and  at  first  I 
confess  that  there  was  enough  of  the  old  American  in 
me  to  be  shocked  at  the  idea  of  a  French  chef  marry- 
ing an  Altrurian  lady  who  could  trace  her  descent  to 
the  first  Altrurian  president  of  the  Commonwealth, 
and  who  is  universally  loved  and  honored.  I  could  not 
help  letting  something  of  the  kind  escape  me  by  acci- 
dent, to  a  friend,  and  presently  Mrs.  Chrysostom  was 
sent  to  interview  me  on  the  subject,  and  to  learn  just 
how  the  case  appeared  to  me.  This  put  me  on  my  honor, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  say  how  it  would  appear  in  Amer- 
ica, though  every  moment  I  grew  more  and  more 
ashamed  of  myself  and  my  native  country,  where  we 
pretend  that  labor  is  honorable,  and  are  always  heap- 
ing dishonor  on  it.  I  told  how  certain  of  our  girls  and 
matrons  had  married  their  coachmen  and  riding-mas- 
ters and  put  themselves  at  odds  with  society,  and  I  con- 
fessed that  marrying  a  cook  would  be  regarded  as  worse, 
if  possible. 

Mrs.  Chrysostom  was  accompanied  by  a  lady  in  her 
second  youth,  very  graceful,  very  charmingly  dressed, 
and  with  an  expression  of  winning  intelligence,  whom 
she  named  to  me  simply  as  Cecilia,  in  the  Altrurian 
fashion.  She  apparently  knew  no  English,  and  at  first 
Mrs.  Chrysostom  translated  each  of  her  questions  and 
my  answers.     When  I  had  got  through,  this  lady  began 

225 


THROUGH   THE   EYE   OF   THE   NEEDLE 

to  question  me  herself  in  Altrurian,  which  I  owned  to 
understanding  a  little.     She  said: 

"  You  know  Anatole  ?" 

"  Yes,  certainly,  and  I  like  him,  as  I  think  every  one 
must  who  knows  him." 

"  He  is  a  skilful  cheff 

"  Mr.  Thrall  would  not  have  paid  him  ten  thousand 
dollars  a  year  if  he  had  not  been." 

"  You  have  seen  some  of  his  water-colors  ?" 

"  Yes.  They  are  exquisite.  He  is  unquestionably 
an  artist  of  rare  talent." 

"  And  it  is  known  to  you  that  he  is  a  man  of  scien- 
tific attainments?" 

"  That  is  something  I  cannot  judge  of  so  well  as 
Aristides;  but  he  says  M.  Anatole  is  learned  beyond 
any  man  he  knows  in  edible  fungi." 

"  As  an  adoptive  Altrurian,  and  knowing  the  Amer- 
ican ideas  from  our  point  of  view,  should  you  respect 
their  ideas  of  social  inequality?" 

"  ]^ot  the  least  in  the  world.  I  understand  as  well 
as  you  do  that  their  ideas  must  prevail  wherever 
one  works  for  a  living  and  another  does  not.  Those 
ideas  are  practically  as  much  accepted  in  America 
as  they  are  in  Europe,  but  I  have  fully  renounced 
them." 

You  see,  Dolly,  how  far  I  have  gone ! 

The  unknown,  who  could  be  pretty  easily  imagined, 
rose  up  and  gave  me  her  hand.  "  If  you  are  in  the 
Region  on  the  third  of  May  you  must  come  to  our  wed- 
ding." 

The  same  afternoon  I  had  a  long  talk  with  Mr. 
Thrall,  whom  I  found  at  work  replanting  a  strawber- 
ry-patch during  the  Voluntaries.  He  rose  up  at  the 
sound  of  my  voice,  and  after  an  old  man's  dim  moment 
for  getting  me  mentally  in  focus,  he  brightened  into  a 

226 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

genial  smile,  and  said,  "  Oh,  Mrs.  Homos !  I  am  glad 
to  see  you." 

I  told  him  to  go  on  with  his  planting,  and  I  offered 
to  get  do"\vn  on  my  knees  beside  him  and  help,  but  he 
gallantly  handed  me  to  a  seat  in  the  shade  beside  his 
daughter's  flower-bed,  and  it  was  there  that  we  had  a 
long  talk  about  conditions  in  [America  and  Altruria, 
and  how  he  felt  about  the  great  change  in  his  life. 

"  Well,  I  can  truly  say,"  he  answered  much  more 
at  length  than  I  shall  report,  "  that  I  have  never 
been  so  happy  since  the  first  days  of  my  boyhood.  All 
care  has  dropped  from  me;  I  don't  feel  myself  rich, 
and  I  don't  feel  myself  poor  in  this  perfect  safety  from 
want.  The  only  thing  that  gives  me  any  regret  is  that 
my  present  state  has  not  been  the  effect  of  my  own 
will  and  deed.  If  I  am  now  following  the  greatest  and 
truest  of  all  counsels  it  has  not  been  because  I  have 
sold  all  and  given  to  the  poor,  but  because  my  money 
has  been  mercifully  taken  from  me,  and  I  have  been 
released  from  its  responsibilities  in  a  state  of  things 
where  there  is  no  money." 

''But,  Mr.  Thrall,"  I  said,  "don't  you  ever  feel 
that  you  have  a  duty  to  the  immense  fortune  which  you 
have  left  in  America,  and  which  must  be  disposed  of 
somehow  when  people  are  satisfied  that  you  are  not 
going  to  return  and  dispose  of  it  yourself  ?" 

"  !N'o,  none.  I  was  long  ago  satisfied  that  I  could 
really  do  no  good  with  it.  Perhaps  if  I  had  had  more 
faith  in  it  I  might  have  done  some  good  with  it,  but 
I  believe  that  I  never  did  anything  but  harm,  even 
when  I  seemed  to  be  helping  the  most,  for  I  was  aiding 
in  the  perpetuation  of  a  state  of  things  essentially 
wrong.  ISTow,  if  I  never  go  back — and  I  never  wish 
to  go  back — let  the  law  dispose  of  it  as  seems  best  to 
the  authorities.    I  have  no  kith  or  kin,  and  my  wife  has 

227 


TUROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

none,  so  there  is  no  one  to  feel  aggrieved  bj  its  appli- 
cation to  public  objects." 

"  And  how  do  you  imagine  it  will  be  disposed  of  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  for  charitable  and  educational  pur- 
poses. Of  course  a  good  deal  of  it  will  go  in  gTaf t ;  but 
that  cannot  be  helped." 

"  But  if  you  could  now  dispose  of  it  according  to 
your  clearest  ideas  of  justice,  and  if  you  were  forced 
to  make  the  disposition  yourself,  what  would  you  do 
with  it  ?" 

"  Well,  that  is  something  I  have  been  thinking  of, 
and  as  nearly  as  I  can  make  out,  I  ought  to  go  into  the 
records  of  my  prosperity  and  ascertain  just  how  and 
when  I  made  my  money.  Then  I  ought  to  seek  out  as 
fully  as  possible  the  workmen  who  helped  me  make  it 
by  their  labor.  Their  v/ages,  which  were  always  the 
highest,  were  never  a  fair  share,  though  I  forced  my- 
self to  think  differently,  and  it  should  be  my  duty  to 
inquire  for  them  and  j^ay  them  each  a  fair  share,  or, 
if  they  are  dead,  then  their  children  or  their  next 
of  kin.  But  even  when  I  had  done  this  I  should 
not  be  sure  that  I  had  not  done  them  more  harm  than 
good." 

How  often  I  had  heard  poor  Mr.  Strange  say  things 
like  this,  and  heard  of  other  rich  men  saying  them, 
after  lives  of  what  is  called  beneficence!  Mr.  Thrall 
drew  a  deep  sigh,  and  cast  a  longing  look  at  his  straw- 
berry-bed, I  laughed,  and  said,  "  You  are  anxious  to 
get  back  to  your  plants,  and  I  won't  keep  you.  I  won- 
der if  Mrs.  Thrall  could  see  mc  if  I  called;  or  Lady 
Moors  ?" 

He  said  he  was  sure  they  would,  and  I  took  my  way 
over  to  the  marquee.  I  was  a  little  surprised  to  be  met 
at  the  door  by  Lord  Moors'  man  Robert.  He  told  me 
he  was  very  sorry,  but  her  ladyship  was  helping  his 

228 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

lordsliip  at  a  little  job  on  the  roads,  which  they  were 
doing  quite  in  the  Voluntaries,  with  the  hope  of  having 
the  ISTational  Colonnade  extended  to  a  given  point ;  the 
ladies  were  helping  the  gentlemen  get  the  place  in 
shape.  He  was  still  sorrier,  bnt  I  not  so  much,  that 
Mrs,  Thrall  was  lying  down  and  wonld  like  to  be  ex- 
cused; she  was  rather  tired  from  putting  away  the 
luncheon  things. 

He  asked  me  if  I  would  not  sit  down,  and  he  offered 
me  one  of  the  camp-stools  at  the  door  of  the  marquee, 
and  I  did  sit  doA\Ti  for  a  moment,  while  he  flitted  about 
the  interior  doing  various  little  things.  At  last  I  said, 
"  How  is  this,  Robert  ?  I  thought  you  had  been  as- 
signed to  a  place  in  the  communal  refectory.  You're 
not  here  on  the  old  terms  ?" 

He  came  out  and  stood  respectfully  holding  a  dust- 
ing -  cloth  in  his  hand.  "  Thank  you,  not  exactly, 
ma'am.  But  the  fact  is,  ma'am,  that  the  communal 
monitors  have  allowed  me  to  come  back  here  a  few 
hours  in  the  afternoon,  on  what  I  may  call  terms  of 
my  own." 

"  I  don't  understand.  But  won't  you  sit  down, 
Robert?" 

"  Thank  you,  if  it  is  the  same  to  you,  ma'am,  I  would 
rather  stand  while  I'm  here.  In  the  refectory,  of 
course,  it's  different." 

"  But  about  your  own  terms  ?" 

"  Thanks.  You  see,  ma'am,  I've  thought  all  along 
it  was  a  bit  awkward  for  them  here,  thev  not  beina;  so 
much  used  to  looking  after  things,  and  I  asked  leave  to 
come  and  help  now  and  then.  Of  course,  they  said  that 
I  could  not  be  allowed  to  serve  for  hire  in  Altruria; 
and  one  thing  led  to  another,  and  I  said  it  would  really 
be  a  favor  to  me,  and  I  didn't  expect  money  for  my 
work,  for  I  did  not  suppose  I  should  ever  be  where  I 

220 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

could  use  it  again,  but  if  they  would  let  me  come  here 
and  do  it  for — " 

Robert  stopped  and  blushed  and  looked  down,  and  I 
took  the  word,  "  For  love  ?" 

"  Well,  ma'am,  that's  what  they  called  it." 

Dolly,  it  made  the  tears  come  into  my  eyes,  and  I 
said  very  solemnly,  "  Robert,  do  you  know,  I  believe 
3^ou  are  the  sweetest  soul  even  in  this  land  flowing  with 
milk  and  honey?" 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  say  that,  ma'am.  There's  "Mr. 
Thrall  and  his  lordship  and  her  ladyship.  I'm  sure 
they  would  do  the  like  for  me  if  I  needed  their  help. 
And  there  are  the  Altrurians,  you  know." 

"  But  they  are  used  to  it,  Robert,  and — Robert !  Be 
frank  with  me !    What  do  you  think  of  Altruria  ?" 

"  Quite  frank,  ma'am,  as  if  you  were  not  connected 
with  it,  as  you  are  ?" 

"  Quite  frank." 

"  Well,  ma'am,  if  you  are  sure  you  wouldn't  mind  it, 
or  consider  it  out  of  the  way  for  me,  I  should  say  it 
was — rum." 

"  Rum  ?  Don't  you  think  it  is  beautiful  here,  to  see 
people  living  for  each  other  instead  of  living  on  each 
other,  and  the  whole  nation  like  one  family,  and  the 
country  a  paradise  ?" 

"  Well,  that's  just  it,  ma'am,  if  you  won't  mind  my 
saying  so.    That's  what  I  mean  by  rum." 

"  Won't  you  explain  ?" 

"  It  doesn't  seem  I'eal.  Every  night  when  I  go  to 
sleep,  and  think  that  there  isn't  a  thief  or  a  policeman 
on  the  whole  continent,  and  only  a  few  harmless  homi- 
cides, as  you  call  them,  that  wouldn't  hurt  a  fly,  and 
not  a  person  hungry  or  cold,  and  no  poor  and  no  rich, 
and  no  servants  and  no  masters,  and  no  soldiers,  and  no 
— disreputable  characters,  it  seems  as  if  I  was  going  to 

230 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

wake  up  in  the  morning  and  find  myself  on  the  Sara- 
band and  it  all  a  dream  here." 

"  Yes,  Robert,"  I  had  to  own,  "  that  was  the  way 
with  me,  too,  for  a  long  while.  And  even  now  I  have 
dreams  about  America  and  the  way  matters  are  there, 
and  I  wake  myself  weeping  for  fear  Altruria  isnt  true. 
Robert !  You  must  be  honest  with  me !  When  you  are 
awake,  and  it's  broad  day,  and  you  see  how  happy  every 
one  is  here,  either  working  or  playing,  and  the  whole 
land  without  an  ugly  place  in  it,  and  the  lovely  villages 
and  the  magnificent  towns,  and  everything,  does  it  still 
seem — rum  ?" 

"  It's  like  that,  ma'am,  at  times.  I  don't  say  at  all 
times." 

"  And  you  don't  believe  that  the  rest  of  the 
world  —  England  and  America  —  will  ever  be  rum, 
too  ?" 

"  I  don't  see  how  they  can.  You  see  the  poor  are 
against  it  as  well  as  the  rich.  Everybody  wants  to  have 
something  of  his  own,  and  the  trouble  seems  to  come 
from  that.  I  don't  suppose  it  was  brought  about  in  a 
day,  Altruria  wasn't,  ma'am  ?" 

"  1^0,  it  was  whole  centuries  coming." 

"  That  was  what  I  understood  from  that  Mr.  Chrys- 
ostoni — Cyril,  he  wants  me  to  call  him,  but  I  can't 
quite  make  up  my  mouth  to  it — who  speaks  English, 
and  says  he  has  been  in  England.  Tie  was  telling  me 
about  it,  one  day  when  we  were  drying  the  dishes  at  the 
refectory  together.  He  says  they  used  to  have  wars 
and  trusts  and  trades-unions  here  in  the  old  days,  just 
as  we  do  now  in  civilized  countries." 

"  And  you  don't  consider  Altruria  civilized  ?" 

"  Well,  not  in  just  that  sense  of  the  word,  ma'am. 
You  wouldn't  call  heaven  civilized  ?" 

"  Well,  not  in  just  that  sense  of  the  word.  Robert." 
231 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

"  You  see,  it's  rum  here,  because,  though  everything 
seems  to  go  so  right,  it's  against  human  nature." 

"  The  Altrurians  say  it  isn't." 

"  I  hope  I  don't  differ  from  you,  ma'am,  but  what 
would  people — the  best  people — at  home  say?  They 
would  say  it  wasn't  reasonable ;  they  would  say  it  wasn't 
even  possible.  That's  what  makes  me  think  it's  a 
dream — that  it's  rum.     Begging  your  pardon,  ma'am." 

"  Oh,  I  quite  understand,  Robert.  Then  you  don't  be- 
lieve a  camel  can  ever  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle  ?" 

"  I  don't  quite  see  how,  ma'am." 

"  But  you  are  proof  of  as  great  a  miracle,  Robert." 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  ma'am  ?" 

"  Some  day  I  will  explain.  But  is  there  nothing  that 
can  make  you  believe  Altruria  is  true  here,  and  that  it 
can  be  true  anywhere  ?" 

"  I  have  been  thinking  a  good  deal  about  that,  ma'am. 
One  doesn't  quite  like  to  go  about  in  a  dream,  or  think 
one  is  dreaming,  and  I  have  got  to  saying  to  myself 
that  if  some  ship  was  to  come  here  from  England  or 
America,  or  even  from  Germany,  and  -we  could  compare 
our  feelings  with  the  feelings  of  peo]:)le  who  were  fresh 
to  it,  we  might  somehow  get  to  believe  that  it  was  real." 

"  Yes,"  I  had  to  own.  "  We  need  fresh  proofs  from 
time  to  time.  There  was  a  ship  that  sailed  from  here 
something  over  a  year  ago,  and  the  captain  promised 
his  crew  to  let  them  bring  her  back,  but  at  times  I  am 
afraid  that  was  part  of  the  dream,  too,  and  that  we're 
all  something  I  am  dreaming  about." 

"  Just  so,  ma'am,"  Robert  said,  and  I  came  away 
do^vnhearted  enough,  though  he  called  after  me,  "  Mrs. 
Thrall  will  be  very  sorry,  ma'am." 

Back  in  the  Maritime  Capital,  and  oh,  Dolly,  Dolly, 
Dolly!     They  have  sighted  the  rAttle  Sally  from  the 

282 


THROUGH  THE  EYE  OF  THE  NEEDLE 

terrace !  How  liappy  I  am !  There  will  be  letters  from 
you,  and  I  shall  hear  all  that  has  happened  in  America, 
and  I  shall  never  again  doubt  that  Altruria  is  real !  I 
don't  know  how  I  shall  get  these  letters  of  mine  back 
to  you,  but  somehow  it  can  be  managed.  Perhaps  the 
8arahand's  crew  will  like  to  take  the  Little  Sally  home 
again;  perhaps  when  Mr.  Thrall  knows  the  ship  is 
here  he  will  want  to  buy  it  and  go  back  to  his  money  in 
America  and  the  misery  of  it !  Do  you  believe  he  will  ? 
Should  I  like  to  remind  my  husband  of  his  promise 
to  take  me  home  on  a  visit  ?  Oh,  my  heart  misgives 
me!  I  wonder  if  the  captain  of  the  Little  Sally  has 
brought  his  wife  and  children  with  him,  and  is  going 
to  settle  among  us,  or  whether  he  has  just  let  his  men 
have  the  vessel,  and  they  have  come  to  Altruria  with- 
out him?  I  dare  not  ask  anything,  I  dare  not  think 
anything ! 


THE    END 


-TKJt^ia/    •  *•  r.i' 


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